Cujo II The Return of the Buzzsaw
by Gone2Far
Summary: Cujo and his human have a lot in common - mostly the ability to find trouble or have it find them.
1. A Small Territorial Dispute

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

Chapter One

**Hello, dear readers. Here is the follow-up Cujo story I'd promised several centuries ago. Those of you who may remember the first one, are probably old enough to be in a 'home' and may not be remembering much of anything these days.**

**This one will be a little darker than the first one. My 'Shecky' muse has deserted me and, at the moment, it's harder to find the humor in life. Let me know what you think of the attempt.**

**As usual, the mistakes are mine. Don't let them give you nightmares.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own any part of the 5-0 franchise. Don't make any money from this attempt to entertain myself. Just admiring them from afar. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to wipe the drool off my television screen.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

A Small Territorial Dispute

The day was as perfect as were most all the days here in the land some call a tropical paradise. The sun shone brightly, the birds chirped in the koa trees. Though it wasn't actually visible from here; he was sure the ocean was as blue as the post cards depicted it. Everything was just freakin' peachy!

The very epitome of un-peachiness sat staring at him from the middle of his desk with unblinking yellow eyes and a smirk . . . _yes, definitely a smirk_ . . . thought the detective, on its furry little face.

This was another showdown. One of the many over the past few months since 'The Spawn of Satan' had become a permanent fixture at 5-0's headquarters.

"Steven!" yelled Danny Williams, "Come get your damned cat off my desk!"

"Just shoo him off." Came the voice from an office further down the hallway.

"Yeah, right. I'm not the freakin' 'cat whisperer' and, unlike someone I know, I'm also not suicidally reckless. I have a kid to raise!" retorted the blonde man caught in only the latest 'O.K. Corral' moment in his glass enclosed office.

"Oh, come on D! You're bigger than he is, not by much, mind you, but you've got the height and weight advantage. My money's on you this time big guy."

"Enough with the height remarks you overgrown giraffe, just get your psychotic little pet out of my office, dammit!

"He's not my pet, Danny. He's our official mascot and rodent control device. I don't have _pets_ as you call them." Came the voice again.

"Yeah, whatever, _cat lady_. He's on my last nerve. You want me to just shoot the little fucker, 'cause I will. If he spills any more of my blood, get ready to donate some of your own, McGarrett!"

"All right, all right. Don't get your undies in a bundle. I'll come rescue your ass . . . again." said the tall, dark haired man who'd appeared in the doorway; corded arms folded over his chest and amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Cujo!" he said "Stop bothering the man. He's sensitive, you're going to give him a complex."

The cat turned his head to look up at his chosen human and then back toward the man sitting behind the desk, as if weighing his options.

_Hmm . . . _Danny could almost hear the fierce little creature thinking . . . _Fresh blood or a time-out locked in the kitchen . . . decisions, decisions . . ._

"Sensitive, my ass! If your demented little piranha doesn't get his mangy tail off my desk, I'm gonna break a two-by-four over his head! No, no, I take that back. It would only give him a concussion and, since he's just like you, you ninja freak - with a head thick as a block of granite, he'd just pop up and meow the equivalent of 'I'm good'. You know what? Why even bother, I'll just shoot him!"

At that moment, the cat made its decision and with a meow that may have meant, _Later, asshole!, _jumped down from his adversary's desk to wind itself around the leg of Five-0's resident badass and (according to his very annoyed partner) - world's biggest sucker.

Said badass, AKA, Commander Steven J. McGarrett laughed and bent down to pick up the small, grey cat and scratch it behind its ears as it purred loudly in his arms.

"Daniel, I don't know why you're so afraid of a little half-grown kitty." he said trying to keep a straight face as he could see his partner's face redden as he wound himself up for a proper rant.

The blonde man's nearly legendary outbursts, somehow, entertained the man who happened to be his boss, (in a less formal way than one would think), friend and partner.

McGarrett couldn't even explain it himself. Witnessing one of Detective Danny Williams' infamous rants was like watching a combination of stand-up comedy, fireworks display and helicopter landing.

The head of 5-0 had even gotten good at tuning it out when it was no longer amusing. He suspected Danny had begun to catch on that his partner was mentally channel surfing but, he hadn't, so far, called him on it.

"My life turned to shit the moment this whacked out buzzsaw walked in the door McGarrett!" said the height challenged detective, his hands starting to whip the air.

"I thought your life was already shit, D. At least that's what you tell me every day you spend on, and I quote: 'This godforsaken pile of steaming volcanic caca'. One of your more creative descriptions I might add."

Danny wasn't really at full RPM yet; the display was going to get more animated. McGarrett stood calmly; holding the still purring object of his partner's wrath. He schooled his face to reveal none of his fascination or amusement at the drama of it all. _This is going to be a good one. I could sell tickets._

"Are you even listening to me!" huffed the more than agitated detective at his tall, annoyingly calm, partner who nodded back gravely that he was, indeed, listening.

"Someday, that little piranha is going to pick on the wrong person and someone's gonna shoot his fat little ass!"

"His ass isn't fat." defended the tall man.

"That's what you're getting from this? That this is a discussion of that psychotic little asshole's physical fitness?"

"Uhh, no?"

"Do you even have a clue as to what could happen if he bites someone like, say, the fucking Governor of fucking Hawaii!"

"You're the only one he's ever bitten, Danny. Well . . . except, of course, that dead drug dealer and a couple of his henchmen but, Cujo didn't actually _kill_ him; I did."

"That's your criteria for deciding if El Gato del Diablo is a dangerous animal . . . if he actually kills somebody!"

"You know, it's very sexy when you speak Spanish." said the man now trying not to explode in laughter.

"Get out! Just get out! Take your cat from hell with you!"

The blonde man was now beyond rational speech as he stood and whipped his hands and arms in fierce gestures meant to urge his irritating partner and his pet shark to vacate his office.

McGarrett turned and went out Danny's office door, his laughter trailing behind him.

He heard his partner banging things around on his desk; muttering something about "_fucking, brain damaged Neanderthals and their fucking psychotic, blood-thirsty pets!"_

_Way better than T.V._, thought McGarrett.

...

Things were pretty much as they usually were. Cases were resolved by paperwork or gunfire, sometimes both.

The last one had been a little hairy. It took the governor's special task-force, SWAT _and_ Animal Control to deal with the smugglers who'd managed to import several types of exotic and poisonous snakes and other creatures; along with brightly colored and even more poisonous frogs from South America.

It was a very profitable business if one could pull it off without being caught by the authorities or bitten by one's own merchandise. The State of Hawaii was especially vigilant about protecting its native environment from anything that didn't belong. Its beauty was a delicate balance of factors the government couldn't afford to jeopardize because someone wanted an exotic pet or two and was willing to spend large sums of money to acquire them.

The smugglers themselves had been dangerous enough when they decided to fight it out rather than surrender. As a distraction, (a really good one), they'd turned loose all manner of creatures in the warehouse that held their living stash of inventory.

Dodging bullets and the bites and stings of whatever was crawling around in the dimly lit building was more than nerve wracking for them all.

There were the beautiful but deadly poison dart frogs from the rainforests and bird eating tarantulas big as dinner plates among several other deadly and/or creepy critters.

Danny had yelled just in time to keep his partner from being bitten by a very large and very annoyed snake that had dropped down behind him from one of the opened crates stacked on top of one another all around them.

McGarrett had leaped aside while flipping another crate down on top of it to trap it. He didn't shoot it because the zoo people had told him how valuable some of the animals were and Danny said they may also be needed as evidence. He'd still rather have shot it.

When everything was over and done; the criminals were rounded up with no fatalities for man or beast. It was time to go back to the office, write their reports and try to put that creepy-crawly feeling to rest.

The four of them decided to not even go home to clean up. Showers were available at HQ and they took advantage of them, putting on whatever clothing they'd had in their lockers or scrounged from others. All of them, Kono included, wound up with one of the stock of T-shirts their slightly OCD boss kept in a drawer in his desk. He was always changing into a clean shirt when they'd come back from anything that had gotten him dirty or sweaty.

At first, Danny thought it was just his arrogant partner trying to show off his amazingly cut physique but, as time went on, he realized it was just the habit of needing to feel as squeaky clean as possible, (a somewhat neurotic one, thought the blonde man but, not for him to judge).

The little detective also realized that while his partner sometimes seemed smugly confident about his abilities, he wasn't really one who traded on his physical appearance. Of course the man knew he had no problem attracting admiring females and, if rumor was to be believed, the admiration from afar of a male aid to the new governor but, he really wasn't a vain person. At times, he could even be completely unaware of the stir he'd cause among the fairer sex.

Danny Williams was no slouch in the attractiveness department himself. Sea blue eyes, thick blond hair and an athletic build served him well. He had the swagger of a man used to making an impression on the ladies. It _was_ a little more difficult to pull-off in a place that prided itself on its casual way of dress. The detective still hadn't abandoned the dark slacks and shiny leather loafers he regularly wore. He'd, finally, been convinced to leave the tie for more formal occasions.

When they'd become more comfortable with each other after the rocky beginning of their working partnership, McGarrett had chided him; saying he had no idea how Danny had ever attracted the stunning woman who was his ex-wife.

Rachel was a beauty but, not necessarily the best choice for the spouse of a dedicated policeman. It was a long story but, suffice to say, she was a little too emotionally high-maintenance, to make it work.

The team had decided to celebrate the closure of the case by gathering at their usual watering hole. The restaurant; with its large but cozy and dimly-lit bar was a good place to drink away the leftover willies of their most recent case. McGarrett, for one, intended to get as plastered as possible without actually passing out before he could get home. Being inebriated in front of his 'subordinates' wasn't kosher but, being sloshed in front of his ohana was acceptable.

He didn't usually go about his relaxation with the laser-like focus for which he was both renowned and reviled. Alcohol was nice but not a necessity in his life. This was a special occasion. The creatures they'd recently encountered had given him industrial strength heebie-jeebies. Brave man though he was, he had his limits.

The sentiment seemed to be the popular one that night. They all had the next two days off. Everyone was more than ready to let their hair down a little this evening.

Earlier, when all criminals and critters had been secured, and the team had returned to the palace, they'd actually put down a tarp in the parking lot and laid all of their vests, weapons and whatever else had been used in the op to make sure there were no stowaways. Only after everything had been carefully inspected was it put back in its rightful place.

Danny had learned from one of the people sent over from the reptile house at the zoo; the snake that had almost landed on Steve was a Fer de Lance. It was most likely from the jungles of Bolivia or Brazil and one of the most poisonous snakes in the world. That alone was more than enough reason for the blonde man and his partner to have an extra drink or two.

"Steven, I just want to know one thing." said Danny as he draped his arm around his partner's shoulder, knocking him momentarily off balance; the two of them nearly tumbling off the stools on which they sat.

"What's that D?" asked McGarrett, his eyes red and slightly glazed.

"How come you put up with that crazy cat? He's psychotic, almost as psychotic as you are, my fine human communications challenged friend."

"OK Danny, say that last part five times fast." giggled Kono who'd paused in downing a tequila shot so she could watch her boss and her co-worker interact in their sometimes hilariously funny way. At least it was hilariously funny tonight, as was pretty much everything at this point in their evening.

"I'm not communi . . . what you said." defended the tall man who was beginning to sway slightly and blink at his partner; trying to focus so that there was only one of him. "I talk to people all the time."

"Yeah, Steven but, when and with whom do you have conversations that don't include the words: gunfight, ammo, ops or . . . classified.?"

"All the time. I talk to you. I talk to Cath . . . I really miss Cath. I wanna go visit her tonight."

"Didn't you say she was stationed somewhere in the Middle East right now?"

"Oh . . . yeah. I guess it'll have to wait."

"That's a good possibility Steven."

...

At the end of the evening, no one was feeling any pain. Since no one had volunteered to be designated driver, they'd all piled into one cab to take them to their various homes.

Steve had elected to go back to the office, saying he could sleep it off on his couch and then he'd have his truck available to him first thing in the morning. He and Danny had arrived at the restaurant in the Camaro which was still there in the parking lot.

He'd pick up Danny in the morning, (or early afternoon, depending on the size of the headache and they'd, in turn, pick up Kono who lived next closest so that she could also retrieve her car from the restaurant parking lot. She'd then fetch Chin and give him a ride back to HQ to get his bike.

They had it all worked out. It was a plan. Well, you know the saying about best laid plans . . .

...

Steve groaned and rolled off the sofa, hitting the floor with a thud.

"Oh God"

He felt as though each follicle on his scalp had it's own little jackhammer just pounding away. He reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking furiously at the painful intrusion of light. When he actually managed to open them all the way and keep them open, he found himself staring into large, yellow eyes only inches from his face.

"Oh, yeah" he croaked out "Forgot you were here. Give me a minute and I'll get up and feed you . . . don't look at me that way. Haven't you ever had a hangover?"

He sat up carefully, holding his head to keep it from rolling off his shoulders and dropping to the floor to break into a million aching little pieces.

The cat looked at him and meowed expectantly. Hangover or not, it was time for breakfast dammit.

"Hey, buddy, why don't I just give you kibble this morning, huh? I can't handle the smell of that canned stuff right now. Danny's right, it is pretty disgusting."

He managed to stand without incident. Once he was actually upright, it wasn't so bad; though anything more strenuous than just breathing and walking wasn't a good idea.

His mouth felt as though the cat had actually slept in it last night and his stomach rolled at the thought of anything other than water, cold, clear, gallons of water.

He went into the lunchroom, opening a cupboard to get the sack of kibble. He managed to pour the dry food into Cujo's bowl, the one with 'Attack Cat' written on it. Danny had bought the matching water bowl that was labeled 'Flea Bag'.

Anything with an odor of any sort was nauseating. He held his breath as the dry pellets plinked into the earthenware dish but made the mistake of reading the printing on the side of the bag . . . Tuna and Egg Flavor. That did it.

He made a dash for the men's room, making it just in time before his stomach expelled what ever was in it and kept on going. When he was finally done with the dry heaves, he flushed the toilet, wincing at the sound of it and went to the sink to throw some water on his face and head.

When he, finally, exited the men's room, there was a small animal staring up at him almost reproachfully.

"Sorry" muttered the tall man.

He walked slowly and carefully back to his office, trying not to jostle his brain which was pounding in his skull as though trying to escape through his ears. He carefully lowered himself into his chair and reached for the phone.

He called Danny but, there was no answer, he hung up before the voice mail feature kicked in. Just as well. Even the thought of venturing into the daylight was painful. Actually, 'thought' in general, was pretty much painful at the moment.

_Whose stupid idea was it to drink that much last night? _He thought as he draped an arm over his face and lay back down on his uncomfortable office couch with a groan.

_..._

An hour later, he felt marginally better and punched number one on his speed dial. A scratchy sounding voice answered. It had to be his partner but, it certainly didn't sound like him.

"Steven? Whose idiot idea was it to drink that much last night?"

"I think the drinking thing was a mutual decision. We're probably not the only ones in pain."

"I hope you're right. I want my misery to have company. Chin and Kono better be feeling as crappy as I do or I'm gonna be pissed. I think squirrels have set up a nest in my mouth."

"You kind of sound like they're still in there Danno."

There was a groan then a long pause and squeaking springs and rustling fabric as it sounded like Danny was trying to untangle himself from his bedding. Even though he'd managed to find a place to live, the hefty deposit had eaten up any money he'd set aside for a new bed. He was still camping out on the world's most uncomfortable sleeper sofa.

"Now, what was I saying?"

"Something about squirrels sleeping in your mouth?"

"No, not that you idiot. Why do you only remember things like that Steven? Do you remember to wait for back-up? No. Do you remember to . . . "

"Danny?"

"Oh, yeah."

There was another pause and then an intake of breath. "Snakes!" suddenly remembered the man on the other end of the line.

"Among other creatures." said McGarrett, losing patience with the guessing game.

"Well, at least I could sleep last night . . . make that, this morning. I don't think I'd have been able to if I hadn't gotten plowed. Those bastards at that warehouse . . . that was just so wrong."

"Did you get enough sleep 'cause you sound like you're still in la-la land."

"Does passing out count as actual sleep? I'm not sure."

"Me either. You ready to go get your car?"

"Yeah, give me a couple minutes to find my ass and throw it in the shower. I know I left it around here somewhere."

"Take your time, D. I'm gonna stop at home first anyway. A shower sounds like a good idea and clothing that doesn't smell like a bar. I don't have any T-shirts left here for some reason."

"It was all for a good cause. After crawling around in that warehouse with whatever else was crawling around in that warehouse, I'd have gone naked if I had to."

"Please don't."

"Don't what?

"Give me a picture in my head of you parading around in the altogether."

"If I did, it would just be to show you what to aspire to."

"You've always been my inspiration Danno." chuckled his partner

"Yeah, whatever. See you in a few minutes."

...

It took only a few minutes for the tall man and his furry passenger to pack up and begin the drive toward home. It was Cujo's turn to haunt the McGarrett home instead of the halls of the Palace as he did during the week. Weekends were spent exploring the house with the world's biggest litterbox as its back yard.

For the little cat, it was an enjoyable vacation from all that sleeping on the desks, tables, shelves and window ledges; the in-boxes and out-boxes, cupboards and drawers of the 5-0 headquarters.

The life of a cat is never easy. Finding just the right sunny spot in which to take a nap can be exhausting. For the moment, he dozed on the seat of the Silverado as it traveled the familiar road.

It was a pleasant late morning drive. If Steve McGarret hadn't been so hungover, he might have noticed the dark sedan trailing him through the city.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC


	2. But We Are the Police

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

**This chapter hasn't much Cujo in it but I hope you find it amusing anyway. Let me know if it's too OOC. The story will also get darker in later chapters but, not to worry. Nothing too bad will happen to the furry piranha, (though I can't say the same for the people). There are too many whump-junkies out there to ignore.**

**Any mistakes are mine. My proof reading skills leave much to be desired but improving them is on my list. (Right below 'Win the Pulitzer' and 'Come in first in the New York Marathon').**

**Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

But, We _Are_ the Police

The trip home had taken only fifteen minutes. On days he didn't have Danny with him, it took only ten minutes.

McGarrett had, finally, learned if he didn't want his partner screaming at him the entire length of their commute, it was best to slow down; if only for the sake of his eardrums.

One morning, over a month ago, had been their latest confrontation over the aforementioned velocity of the vehicle in which Detective Daniel Williams was a passenger.

He was tired of having to hang onto the 'oh shit' handle whenever he got into the car with his insane-ninja-race-car partner. The previous afternoon, Danny had nearly refused to hand over the keys to the Camaro. Even though the car actually belonged to the detective, Steve always drove when they were together. It's just the way things are.

That morning, Danny had finally decided to take a stand; he refused to toss his partner the keys.

_WTF!_ The tall man was nearly dumbstruck.

"Give me the keys, Danny." said McGarrett, his brows knitting in annoyance as he extended his hand for them; still not grasping the concept that Danny Williams had, finally, put his foot down and was not going to allow his entirely too heedless partner to have control of the car . . . _his_ car.

"You are not getting the keys this morning or, perhaps, never again; depending on your behavior. You are banned from driving my car, Steven. You are on probation until you stop trying to see if you can break the land speed record every time you get behind the wheel."

"What! Oh, come on! _Now_ you're going to get pissy about it? I've been driving since we first met. What's the deal!" he demanded.

"The deal? The deal is that despite my many pleas, my nearly begging you to do so, you haven't slowed down one bit. Nay, not one freakin' bit. I'm tired of holding on for dear life while you do your best to kill us both in a smoking pile of twisted metal, you over-amped, control freak, adrenaline junkie!"

"Nay? Really? Well, at least I don't drive like an old lady on her way to knitting class."

"I don't have anything to prove with my driving, Steven. I only have to get there in a reasonable amount of time . . . safely! You, on the other hand, seem to think cars are only 'temporarily' earthbound until you can get all four of the wheels off the ground at the same time!"

"I didn't think they had such timid drivers in Jersey. From what I've heard you people are all supposed to be aggressive speed demons. It seems the only thing aggressive about you is your mouth!"

The argument escalated from there. Each man getting in his shots about the other's driving skills, mental health and mode of dress; stopping just short of 'questioning' each other's parentage; after all, they _are_ adults.

At that moment, McGarrett made to snatch the keys from his partner's hand. Williams pulled them back but not before the tall man already had a hold on them. This resulted in a very undignified juvenile tug of war.

This little disagreement, unfortunately, was in the parking lot of the apartment building into which Danny Williams had just moved. It was also in full view of probably every tenant in the complex.

Williams was beside himself with anger at his control freak of a partner. The man's need to drive in what he considered a reckless manner had, finally, gotten on his last nerve. He hung onto the keys with the tenacity of a pit bull.

This probably wasn't even entirely about the speeding. Steve's need for control, coupled with his OCD tendencies, had already made having Danny as a roommate, however temporary, untenable. The arrangement had ended far sooner than anticipated and the detective had only found this apartment a week ago.

The other thing that had set his nerves on edge was, while at HQ, he also had to contend with the man's land dwelling barracuda of a cat. This was all just so fucked!

One of the alarmed tenants, seeing two grown men she didn't recognize, wrestling around and yelling had called HPD to report a brawl in progress.

Luckily, by the time the patrol car had arrived, Steve and Danny were only standing breathless and glaring at each other over the hood of the Camaro whose driver-ship was in question.

Distracted by their 'disagreement', they'd failed to notice the police cruiser drive into the lot

Recognizing the two supposed combatants as fellow law enforcement officers, Sergeant Miko Kiliona whooped the siren to get their attention.

"Oh shit" muttered the blonde man to his mortified partner. "Now look what you've done you moron. You're going to get me arrested and then thrown out of my apartment - THE ONE I JUST MOVED INTO!"

As the uniformed officer emerged from his unit and walked toward them, McGarrett had only intended to stand mute and look 'in control' but, he just couldn't ignore his partner's last jab.

"Is _this_ what you think is going to get you thrown out of your apartment? I think it's going to be when they realize they've rented to a guy who NEVER SHUTS UP!"

As Kiliona walked up to the 'brawlers', they stopped yelling and turned to face him. In the back of his mind, Danny thought it odd that only a single officer appeared to be in the patrol car. Usually, there were two whenever they rolled on a complaint.

McGarrett, of course, saw nothing wrong with it. Why couldn't one man take down two? He did it all the time. Nothing to it.

They both knew Danny was the best one to smooth this over as he smiled at the responding officer and came forward to greet him.

The SEAL was still on shaky ground with HPD since he'd rushed into that last drug bust and had taken down most of the perps with only Danny as back-up. The fact there'd been an informant's life in danger and that he'd have been killed if they'd not gotten there in the next few moments, seemed to make no impression on Honolulu's finest.

Honolulu PD was getting tired of having to clean up the leftovers of the Governor's Special Taskforce. Half of them admired McGarrett's focused and fearless pursuit of the bad guys. The other half were waiting for Five-0's leader to finally get his comeuppance when he dashed into a situation he couldn't handle. They'd been waiting for that occurrence for quite awhile now.

"Hey, Danny, McGarrett, what's going on?" asked the patrolman Danny recognized as Miko Kiliona.

Kiliona had been with HPD for quite a while and Williams knew him to be, if not terribly ambitious, then at least a patient man - someone who'd actually size up a situation before jumping into it.

"Hey, Miko, why are you here?" asked Williams, knowing full well why the uniformed officer was now standing in front of them waiting for an explanation as to why 5-0's commander and his 2-IC were reportedly in a brawl in an apartment house parking lot.

"We got a report of a fistfight in progress." said Kiliona, raising an eyebrow. _This was gonna be good . . . _

"What?" said both men at once, managing to actually look surprised instead of embarrassed.

Danny took the lead on this one: "We were just going over some of McGarrett's SEAL moves. He was teaching me a new way to subdue a suspect."

"At seven AM in a residential parking lot?" asked the uniformed man skeptically, both eyebrows now traveling further upward toward his hairline.

"Yeah, had to hit the ground running today." said the blonde detective without missing a beat. "We thought we probably wouldn't have time to do this later on. Just getting an early start. McGarrett thought it would be best to hold class now."

The tall man glanced sharply at his partner but managed to keep his mouth closed and his face neutral.

"Uhuh" said Kiliona, trying not to smile. The pair's 'discussions' were nearly legendary.

Williams already had a reputation for being 'outspoken'. It hadn't made him the most popular member of HPD. The haoli wasn't one who kept his opinions to himself.

Kiliona supposed this was, most likely, another of their infamous disputes. _McGarrett has his work cut out for him_, thought the patrolman. _It seems they both do._

"Sorry to have you called out on this." McGarrett apologized, actually sounding sincere.

"Yeah" said Williams, jumping in before his partner could expound on the apology and make this fucked-up situation even worse, if that were possible. He was already imagining the shit he was going to get from the smart-asses they'd have to interact with on future cases.

"Next time, we'll hold class somewhere else. My new neighbors are probably freaked out. I'll have to bake 'em some cookies or something as an apology."

"Bake cookies?" frowned McGarrett

"A figure of speech, Steven."

"Whose speech? Martha Stewart's?"

Just then, an older woman in a flowery pink bathrobe came marching up to the men. She was tiny, no taller than five feet at the most but, she had a formidable air about her.

"Oh", I'm glad you came out so quickly after I called you. You know, sometimes it takes awhile for you people to get here. I was afraid something dire would happen before you arrived." she said; her voice loud, high-pitched voice managing to sound both grateful and disapproving at the same time. To the SEAL, she sounded like she'd just taken a hit from a helium filled balloon.

"Hello Missus Ratliff. How are you today?" asked the uniformed officer politely. He was obviously familiar with the birdlike woman who stood with her arms crossed over her chest; glaring at the two red-faced men in front of her.

"I could be better! Having hooligans brawling in the parking lot of my apartment house is frightening."

From her stance and tone, Danny Williams doubted the woman was frightened of anything. "Ma'am, I'm very sorry. We didn't mean to disturb you." he said, trying to sound as apologetic as he knew how. Getting thrown out of his new apartment would be a fucking disaster.

"Who are you, young man? What are you doing here in my parking lot?" demanded the fierce little woman.

"My name is Danny Williams, uhh, I'm a new neighbor of yours. So very sorry to meet you this way." He stuck out his hand to shake hers in greeting but she only looked at it like it was crawling with bugs.

"You should be, young man! You and your friend are going to be even sorrier. The police are here; they know how to take care of people like you!"

She regarded them both with her fierce faded blue eyes; her gaze piercing.

"Ma'am" said Steve McGarret drawing himself up to his full height and with all the dignity he could muster said. "We _are_ the police."

"Missus Ratliff," said Kiliona, somehow managing not to collapse in laughter, "May I introduce you to Commander Steven McGarrett and Detective Daniel Williams of the Governor's Special Task Force."

"Again, we apologize for the worry, Mrs. Ratliff. We were just practicing some, uhh, defensive tactics." said the now even redder-faced detective whose partner only nodded gravely; this one was Danny's for sure."

"Defensive, my ass. You two were squabbling like a couple of fifth-graders! I was a teacher for thirty-five years, I've seen better deportment from ten-year olds!"

Before the old woman's scolding could go any further, Kiliona interrupted by saying "Gentlemen, I'm sure there's no need to alarm the neighbors any further." The dark eyed man looked at both of them pointedly.

Both men only smiled apologetically at the agitated old woman.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right Miko. Uhh thanks for coming out. We'll keep it down." said the blonde as he looked warningly at his tall partner who'd only smirked back at him.

"Mrs Ratliff, we have to get to work now. Don't worry, this won't happen again." said the detective.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, young man. Policeman or not, you need to be more considerate toward your neighbors."

With that, the woman dismissed them and turned to totter off toward her apartment.

"Who the hell is that?" asked McGarrett of the amused patrolman.

"That, my friends, is every former elementary school student's worst nightmare." laughed Kiliona.

"I don't doubt that." frowned the tall man as he stared after the retreating woman's form.

"She's actually a pretty good watchdog but, we get called out here by her a lot for unnecessary reasons like someone putting flyers on her door, stuff like that. Everyone at the station knows her. Why do you think they sent only one man out?"

Williams only stood hands on hips; shaking his head at the situation in which he'd just found himself.

"You'd better try to stay on her good side, brah." said Kiliona to the blonde man.

"She has a good side?"

"You'd better hope so, Danny." said his partner looking worriedly at the tiny terror who'd just given them one last glare as she entered her apartment and shut the door loudly.

"Miko, this is just between us, right?" said the man formerly a member of HPD before he'd been dragooned into Five-0 by his certifiably insane partner.

"You owe me one, Williams but, I won't let the cat out of the bag, don't worry." laughed the Hawaiian policeman as he walked back to his patrol car to report that he'd found no brawl in progress when he arrived. He knew they'd just chalk it up to one of the false alarms of the overly vigilant Mrs. Ratliff.

This would be a great story to tell the guys but, he'd always liked Williams, in spite of his big mouth. The haoli was a damned good cop. Besides, he'd heard about McGarrett's penchant for hanging people off roofs. It was probably not a good idea to piss the guy off.

_McGarrett is so dead,_ thought the little detective as he tossed the keys to his smug partner and waived to the patrolman now driving off.

They got into the Camaro in silence, aware of the old woman peering at them from behind the curtains at her window only a few yards away.

_I'm so gonna kick Danny's ass,_ thought McGarrett as he silently put the car in gear, staring straight ahead, lips in a tight line and jaw clenched.

"That was just fucking embarrassing!" said both men aloud at the same time. Glancing at one another; startled at their identical and simultaneous announcement.

The drive to HQ that day was completely silent.

...

Once man and cat arrived home, McGarrett set the small feline down in the entryway. Cujo immediately went off to explore and reclaim his territory.

The hungover victim of his own device carefully set his keys down on the table next to the door. He usually just tossed them there but right now the clink of metal would most certainly be painful.

He trudged into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The large container of orange juice was the only thing that looked even remotely appealing.

He poured himself a large glass of it and drank it down before pausing for breath. He then took out a bottle of water and, holding the container against the side of his aching head, walked out to the lanai.

He stood for a moment looking longingly at the inviting coolness of the ocean then sighed and went back into the house. His daily swim would have to wait. He had to get cleaned up and go get Danny.

Walking back to the living room, he began to trudge tiredly up the stairs. Cujo raced by him on some feline mission of his own. He ran over his human's feet, almost causing him to lose his balance.

"Hey, cat. Honk or something and I'll get out of your way. At least give me some sort of warning if you're going to run over my ass."

The cat paid him no mind. When McGarrett reached the bedroom, the little creature just stared at him calmly from the middle of the bed. Whatever the cause of the half-grown animal's frenzied dash up the stairway now forgotten.

_Damned cat! _McGarrett mumbled to himself as he gathered clean clothing.

In fifteen minutes, he'd showered and set out food and water for Cujo. He'd have to clean the litter box when he got back.

He hoped the cat wouldn't stage a protest at having let the cleaning go for longer than a day. When they'd gotten busy at work and had forgotten about the cat latrine, Cujo had made his displeasure known by pissing in the middle of Danny's desk.

Of course, the man nearly had to be sedated after discovering the puddle and had threatened all sorts of dire consequences if it ever happened again.

It hadn't helped when his partner laughingly told him he'd considered doing such a thing himself a couple of times.

Chin and Kono had burst out laughing at their boss's outrageous statement then hurriedly made themselves scarce when the blonde detective had given them what they'd coined the 'glare of death'. It was usually reserved for his 'freakin'-Neanderthal-disaster-waiting-to-happen' partner and his pet piranha but it was also very effective on the cousins.

Still, it _was_ pretty funny_,_ thought everyone but Danny Williams.

"OK, buddy - you've got the watch." said McGarrett toward the lone little figure sitting at the door, yellow eyes regarding him sadly, (or at least that's the way it looked to Steve) as he picked up his keys to leave.

"No parties." added the tall man as he shut the door and locked it behind him.

...

Today, Steve parked in the lot and honked his horn only once to alert his partner that his four-wheel drive limousine had arrived.

The thought of actually getting out of his truck and having the hot sunlight beating down on his aching skull was not appealing. Not a patient man at the best of times, after only a couple of minutes, he was just about to exit the vehicle to go pound on Danny's door when the blonde man emerged and painfully made his way toward the waiting Silverado.

"Glad you could make it." said McGarrett, in only half-hearted sarcasm to the man who was slowly and carefully climbing into the passenger side to settle with a groan before buckling his seat belt.

"Not now, Steven." he said in a still rusty sounding voice. "Those squirrels we talked about earlier have decided to hold maneuvers in my skull. I think there's maybe a howitzer in there with them. They're having target practice."

"Know how you feel, D" said McGarrett sympathetically as he put the truck into gear.

They'd just turned onto the frontage road that ran parallel to the main highway when the rear window exploded and showered them with jagged pebbles of safety glass.

A dark sedan was right on their bumper and starting to pull to the side of the truck to take another shot.

Stomping hard on the accelerator, Steve swerved the pick-up over the concrete median and onto the thoroughfare. The big engine took its orders flawlessly and rocketed them into traffic; tires smoking on the asphalt as they screeched away from their attacker.

The sedan had followed, bumping over the median as well and trying to close the gap once they'd bullied their way into the morning commute amid honking horns and angry gestures from the other drivers.

They'd managed to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers.

A half-mile farther on, McGarrett spun the wheel and the truck skid into a one-eighty, managing to avoid being hit by the cars that braked and honked all around them.

"Dammit McGarrett! We don't have to get shot, you'll just do the job for them!"

"Get ready Danny. We're about to pass them coming the other way."

The startled face of the driver flashed by. They caught a glimpse of three other faces that registered surprise when their quarry passed them going in the opposite direction.

McGarrett waited for another small gap in traffic then cranked the wheel hard once again to skid into a one-eighty. The pursuers were now the pursued.

The Silverado wove around the cars between it and the midnight blue Olds. Williams called in the plate while the heavy car sped up once its driver realized the tables had been turned.

The chase lead through nearly the center of the city. Both vehicles narrowly avoided the numerous rental jeeps that were so popular with the tourists and the lumbering produce trucks making deliveries to the many markets and restaurants throughout Honolulu.

At one intersection, the attackers had nearly run down several brightly clad and sunburned tourists out for an early morning stroll.

They'd just reached a less densely populated area on the outskirts when a tire on the Olds blew and it careened into the center divider before ricocheting off to flip into the air and roll like a metal clad dolphin. After several spectacular revolutions, it came to rest on its roof; an almost unrecognizable tangle of smoking metal.

The Silverado screeched to a halt and both doors popped open as the two Five-0's dashed toward the wreckage. If anyone had survived this mess it would be a miracle.

Williams could see that at least one of their attackers had been ejected from the vehicle. His head, or what was left of it, was just a gory smear on the asphalt.

They'd just reached the upturned car when the fireball rose into the bright blue sky. The concussion of the explosion knocked both men backward and to the ground where they rolled onto their stomachs and covered their heads as pieces of metal and things they really didn't want to identify at the moment rained down on them.

So much for a peaceful drive to H.Q.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**Thank you all for your kind reviews and comments, alerts and favorites. You have no idea how encouraging it is when I feel as though I should give this up and take up something more soothing like knitting or wrestling alligators.**


	3. Maximum Density

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

Chapter 3

**Here's another. Thank you all so much for the reviews, alerts and favorites. I'm not just saying that, I really appreciate them.**

**This chapter is a little darker and the story will get darker still in later chapters. Don't worry, no animals will be harmed in the making of this saga, (the people are fair game though). Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own them. If I owned them, I'd have enough money to buy a new laptop. Carrying around a monitor and a cpu is a little awkward. People are beginning to stare.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Maximum Density

They'd finally gotten back to the office.

With his head and much of the rest of him aching and a smallish gash on his forehead which had bled quite a bit as head wounds do but, which required only a butterfly bandage; he'd gotten off easy.

Danny had been equally as lucky with only a scraped elbow and the ringing in his ears which hadn't yet stopped. He _was_ limping a little though. Steve thought perhaps he'd wrenched his already iffy knee again. He'd keep watch on his friend to see if the limp didn't go away.

As soon as they entered the office, Danny rummaged in his desk and pulled out the economy sized bottle of extra strength Tylenol. Taking two of them immediately, he headed for his partner's office with the pills and a bottle of water.

"Here. Take these _now_." he said as he handed the water and tablets to the man who interrupted his industrious search through the cabinets and drawers of his office.

Steve had stripped off his now filthy T-shirt before realizing there were no clean ones to replace it.

_Dammit!_ he thought. He'd forgotten about yesterday's raid on his T-shirt stash. He held up the soiled shirt in front of him, looking at the grime and blood and other stuff he wasn't all that keen to know the identity of.

Danny's button-down was in the same shape but he'd have to find his own solution.

"I've seen this show before, babe." said the compact detective, gesturing toward his partner's current state of undress.

"I don't have any clean shirts left here.", frowned the tall man in an annoyed tone as he took the water and washed down the pills handed to him.

"You know, it's not the end of the world if you have to wear a dirty shirt for a coupla hours."

The look the detective received as reply from his irritated partner only made him smile.

Unbeknownst to their boss, his team had actually been taking bets on some of his, amusing to them, OCD behavior. Danny, Chin, Kono, and now even Lori, were in on the game.

When nothing else was going on, they'd re-arrange the things on his desk in some subtle way like moving the stapler from the right side to the left or swiveling the pen holders to point the pens in different directions; small things like that.

When McGarrett returned to his office, he always did the same thing; frown at the offending object, then put it back where, in his mind, it belonged.

They'd bet on how long it would take him to discover the change and then add in the time before the object or objects were returned to their original position. After many, many, times of this manipulation; he still hadn't caught on. It was freakin' hilarious.

So far, Chin was ahead. They'd also discussed modifying the game, (extra points for difficulty and form), but hadn't yet finalized the new rules. Hey . . . it was something to do on slow days; though, there hadn't been many of those in the last few weeks.

Danny only smirked one more time then went back to his own office.

McGarrett was glad he and Danny were the only ones here at the moment. Despite Five-0's lack of dress code and his own love of casual attire, it wasn't quite right to walk around bare torsoed in the office.

He debated putting the disgusting shirt back on but, just couldn't do it. Certainly, being in situations where clean clothing may not be available for days wasn't unusual but, if he had a choice . . . well, he just couldn't do it.

Still pondering what _could_ be done about the wardrobe situation, he suddenly remembered a shirt that might do but, only because this was an emergency and there was no alternative. The others would be back soon and there was always the threat of the governor sending someone to gather information since Lori had been gone for the last couple of days.

Danny had already given him a hard time in the past; calling him a preening, self-absorbed show-off and saying he'd use any excuse to remove his shirt to show off his six-pack abs. The tall man hoped this was all in jest. He was proud of his body, he worked hard to keep in shape but, parading around to show it off wasn't something he did . . . was it?

He strode to the janitor's closet to look on the shelf that held miscellaneous cat supplies like plastic jugs of kitty litter, an economy sized bag of Meowi Wowie catnip, brushes, hairball remedy and etcetera. In a basket were pieces of clean toweling and old sweatshirts for the 'official' cat bed, (a wooden ammo box). For the most part, Cujo preferred to find his own places to snooze; it didn't get much attention from the independent animal.

"Aha!" he exclaimed as he pulled out the T-shirt large enough to fit two of him with enough leftover fabric to make a shirt for the cat, if not for everyone else on the team.

He grimaced as he looked at the faded image of their shave ice/shrimp truck mogul, Kamekona, smiling back at him from the front of it. Well, it was this or nothing.

As he pulled the shirt over his head, grumbling to himself about being a walking billboard for Wailoa Shave Ice, he exited the closet to abruptly bump into his partner who'd come looking for him to tell him of Max Bergman's phone call.

"Hey! You oaf, the speed limit's only fifty-five here!" said the detective as he rocked back from the collision, trying to maintain his balance without stressing his knee.

"Sorry, I didn't . . . " The SEAL's sentence died on his lips as the two men stared at each other in horror.

"Oh, hell no!" exclaimed the the blonde one. The other couldn't even find the words.

While Steve wore the tattered cat bedding version; Danny wore a nearly perfect XXXL Wailoa Shave Ice t-shirt; its color bright as the day they'd been forced to wear them in exchange for the big man's information. The image of the smiling but, still somehow scary face grinned back at him in unfaded glory.

This was just . . . so . . . wrong.

...

Chin and Kono had returned to HQ after being called back from their day off.

Both, to Danny's satisfaction, looked a little the worse for wear after last night's debauchery. Well, at least Chin did. Kono looked as bright eyed and fresh as she always did; as though she'd just stepped off the beach, (which she probably had). She _did_ appear to be moving a little slower thought Danny with _some_ satisfaction.

Lori would be back from Molokai tomorrow. At the 'request' of the governor, she'd been trying to track down the nephew who'd been living it up on the credit cards the kid had 'borrowed' from his parents.

It was all very hush, hush and the governor had sent the two people he knew he could trust to keep it that way; his trusted aid, the one who was so taken with the commander of the governor's special task force), and a member of the task force itself.

In any case, during the trip, the two had a good time comparing notes on the handsome commander. Lori Weston and Dave Matsui, along with the wayward delinquent, would come back on the regularly scheduled flight tomorrow morning.

Steve hadn't been unhappy to let Lori go on the governor's mission. He liked her and thought her tough and competent but, she'd been getting a little too aggressive in the seduction department. Not that she wasn't beautiful but, there was Cath.

Even though he couldn't see her as often as he'd like, the beautiful brunette lieutenant had dibs on the SEAL. He'd been thinking of taking their relationship to the next step, (whatever that was, since he didn't know what the first step had been), but didn't know if she felt the same.

Flirting with Lori hadn't been a good idea. He realized he'd made a mistake and felt bad about encouraging her but, he is a man, how could he not be flattered by the attentions of a beautiful female? That's what he gets for letting something other than his head control his actions.

It was also wrong to get involved with someone at work. If not against the rules, it still wasn't a good idea. His life is messy enough as it is. He didn't want to add any more crap to the pile.

When she got back, he'd have to have a talk with her; a no doubt, uncomfortable one for both of them.

He did wonder how she'd have reacted to the 'critter case' as they'd begun to call it. She was pretty tough he knew but, even Chin, who had nerves of titanium, had been shaken by the big tarantulas.

The thought of the giant arachnids once again gave him chills. The phone rang to interrupt the self-induced creepy-crawly attack.

"McGarrett"

"Oh, hello - Steve."

Even if he didn't recognize the voice itself, the awkward cadence of speech would have identified their ME, Max Bergman.

"Hey, Max. What've you got?"

"What- I've discovered is- one of the victims of the crash; actually- the only one who was mostly intact, had something very interesting in his pocket.

Mc Garrett was expecting to hear about some sort of unusual weapon or something of the like.

"What'd you find, Max?" He knew he had to be patient for the answer. He just hoped the man didn't go off on one of his pedantic verbal journeys. Sometimes Five-0's commander learned more about forensic processes than he really wanted to know.

"Our suspect- had a pocket full of- pellets."

"Pellets? You mean like shotgun pellets?"

"No,- actually, like- animal food pellets."

"You mean kibble? Maybe he has a dog."

"Yes- kibble. I'm in the process- of comparing it to the food available at the pet stores and super markets. So far, there is no match.

Before McGarrett could ask another question, the ME said, "Do you know that most animals have very specific needs as far as nutritional values are concerned. Koalas, for instance, require diets of . . . "

"Yeah, Max, I am aware of that but, we'll have to go into the koala chow discussion later."

"Oh- OK- Steve."

"I assume you haven't made any ID's on the bodies?"

"No- not as yet. We haven't found anything from which to make the identifications. I'm working on the dental analysis but- even if I am able to- work out the dental patterns, there is nothing to compare them to. Of course- there will be DNA also."

"Well, keep working on it. The car is probably stolen so I don't expect anything to help us there. If you come up with anything, give me a call right away."

"Will do- Steve."

"Thanks, Max."

With that, the conversation was ended. So far, there was nothing to even indicate why they'd been the targets of someone who sent amateurs to do the dirty work.

They'd been much too easy to evade and firing through the rear window like that wasn't the best way to take out their quarry. A pro would have waited until they'd pulled alongside before taking out the driver and maybe the passenger as well - that is, if the car hadn't immediately swerved and crashed; the driver being full of holes and all.

See! There was _another_ reason for him to drive. If the assassination attempt had been successful, at least Danny had a chance.

That got him back to thinking his own dark thoughts. Since Korea, it was too easy to slip into them; much more so than before. His head _is_ a 'scary place' as his partner had put it.

...

The next day brought nothing new. The car, of course, had turned up on HPD's stolen vehicle list. They still had no idea who, in particular, would want them erased.

No one had any illusions that Five-0 didn't have more than its share of enemies. The ranks were quickly growing as they'd put away various and assorted evildoers. Any number of those would be happy to have the members of the Governor's Special Task Force six feet under.

Steve threw a completed report into his 'out' basket.

There was an indignant squawk from the creature currently occupying it. Startled, McGarrett looked up at the animal who stood from its place on the pile of papers and yawned and stretched; blinking back at him sleepily.

Time had gotten away from the tall man in his hyper-focus to complete the report and get it over with. He'd forgotten the official mascot/mouser usually took his afternoon snooze there.

He reached over and absentmindedly scratched Cujo behind the ears which elicited another squawk which quickly turned into the rumbling purr the little grey cat's chosen human found so soothing.

Cujo was growing into quite a handsome animal. His coat was a thick and lustrous silver grey and he'd grown larger and . . . wider. Steve eyed the sleepy feline. Maybe Danny was right. Cujo may be approaching maximum density.

He wondered what cats this age were supposed to weigh. They don't actually have much to do with their time but sleep. He supposed he might have weight issues too if that's all he did. His weight issue, however, was the opposite of the his furry colleague's.

His ohana had been on him to gain a couple of pounds after they'd gotten back from Korea and he'd gotten out of the hospital. He was slowly putting some of it back on but apparently, not fast enough for his Five-0 family. He'd put up with a bit of good-natured teasing from his partner who'd told him he wasn't pretty enough to be a runway model so he may as well eat another sandwich.

In spite of his extended breaks, Cujo actually did earn his keep as 5-0's rodent/bug control officer. More often than not when the fierce little predator spent the night at the office, they'd come in mornings to see his latest 'kill' neatly laid out on the smart table or in the middle of someone's desk. There didn't seem to be a pattern for how Cujo chose the recipients of his gifts. Even Danny had received his share of them.

No one was squeamish about picking them up, except for the little detective, who complained loudly about having to dispose of the carcasses, (Danny complained about pretty much everything to be honest), and that Satan's Spawn was only trying to torment him with the disgusting things left on his desk.

Five-0's badass commander had to admit, he himself had gotten a little more careful about picking up the 'dead' lizards. One time, he'd picked one up by what was left of its tail, (the cat may have eaten the other part; he didn't really want to know). As he carried the limp carcass of the unfortunate reptile toward the wastebasket, in a millisecond, it twitched back to life and whipped around to nip him.

Startled enough to let out a yelp of surprise, he dropped it.

Cujo witnessed the escape of his latest gift and quickly scrambled to undo his human's obvious error. This time, the lizard was lucky. It found refuge under the water cooler.

The cat set-up his observation post in front of it; waiting for his prey to eventually emerge so he could complete its execution. After awhile, when it didn't come out, he just squawked in frustration before walking off. He had better things to do with his time; like finding a nice warm sunny spot in which to nap. Maybe the top of the file cabinet this time or on the counter next to the fax machine. The life of Five-0's office cat was certainly a busy one . . . and exhausting.

Steve was glad he'd driven himself to work that day instead of car-pooling with Danny and there'd been no one else in yet to witness him nearly screaming like a girl over a stupid lizard. His heart rate had slowed down quickly enough anyway. Needless to say, he was much more careful to confirm that any of Cujo's gifts were actually deceased before picking them up.

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he moved the furry paper weight aside to put the final page into the basket. _Can lizards give you rabies? _ He thought not but, he'd Google it anyway.

...

This would require more planning. He'd been foolish to think he could get rid of them that way. He needed something more subtle. Sending those clowns after McGarrett and Williams had been a mistake.

Well, 'hindsight is foresight' as the saying goes. Back to the drawing board.

He put down the binoculars and swept the damp hair off his forehead. He'd never get used to this humidity. Jeeze, how the hell do these people stand it?

The plan was forming in his mind as he put the car in gear and blended into the afternoon traffic. Their time was coming. He just had to be patient.

...

The next day had worn on with the usual chases, arrests, and only a small explosion this time. This one hadn't even caused a Danny rant. Maybe he was getting better at this non-military stuff?

He was tired. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he'd never gotten back the energy he'd had before going to Korea. His injuries and the marks from them were almost gone but, the thoughts were getting harder to ignore.

He called it a day, saying the paperwork could be completed tomorrow and told everyone to go home and get some rest. There was certainly no resistance to the directive.

It had been a long week that had begun with not the smartest thing to have done; getting trashed in a bar. Granted, they were supposed to have the next couple of days off but it didn't work out that way, plus the attempt on their lives, the crash and narrow escape from being blown to smithereens along with their attackers, well . . . enough was enough.

McGarrett was willing to throw in the towel and head for home. As everyone said their goodnights, he reminded them all to be as cautious as possible. They still didn't know why he and Danny had been targeted. Who knew if the entire team wasn't in the cross-hairs? Max hadn't come up with anything solid as yet - no one had.

Kono reminded him to take Cujo home even though it was only the middle of the week. He had to take him to the vet on the way to work in the morning for his required shots. This was the last round and _everyone_ was glad it was over. Cujo's score so far was one vet tech, the vet herself and Chin's right wrist.

Even the fierce little feline's chosen human hadn't been unscathed. His arm and chest were still smarting from the deep gouges the cat's claws had made in his latest attempt to escape the exam room. It had been quite the tumultuous visit.

McGarrett wasn't quite sure but, maybe he'd have to look for another vet. Cujo must, certainly, be on the last nerve of the kind, competent woman and her beleaguered vet-techs, Janet and Joanie.

After tomorrow's visit, he'd probably have to send them another box of chocolates as apology. Keeping pets sometimes had unexpected costs; though he knew this probably wasn't one of the normal expenses.

The drive home was uneventful. Cujo took his place on the dash, enjoying the feel of speed and the scenery that flashed by. He knew letting the cat ride on the dash might be dangerous but, it was the only way to transport him.

If they managed to get him into the carrier to go to the vet's, they couldn't get him out of it without someone needing to make a visit to urgent care. The best way, so far, was to stuff him in a sturdy canvas bag with air-holes cut into it. They only had to pull out that part of him they needed to deal with: paws, tail, head, etc.

Steve had become amazingly adept at sneaking up on the little animal, pulling the sack over him and yanking the drawstring closed before Cujo could retaliate. That method of transport was reserved only for the vet visits. It wasn't the least stressful way of traveling for man or cat. The tall man was sure the screeching and yowling coming from the sack was the fractious little animal threatening his life and whoever else he could get his teeth on when he got out.

On his return to HQ, they always let him loose in a vacant office and kept the door closed until he'd calmed down and no one's lives were in imminent danger. Cujo was deceptive though. The cat could hold a grudge for hours.

Last time, he'd honed in on Chin, the first one he'd seen upon being released from the sack. Hours later, when they let him out of confinement, he'd come screeching across the office like a furry little torpedo to sink his teeth into the startled man's wrist and then hold on like an alligator.

Steve managed to pull the cat off of his Hawaiian detective. Chin had vowed to never 'let the cat out of the bag' again. OK, they'd give him that one. He'd donated enough blood to the cause.

Once Cujo had tasted blood, he'd be fine; once again becoming the playful, purring little fur ball. It was eerie.

McGarrett pulled into his driveway and shut the engine off. He was being paranoid but, not without reason. He firmly believed in the old saying: _'Just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean that someone isn't out to get you'._

He sat for awhile checking out the surrounding area before picking up the cat and walking up to his door. He unlocked it and entered, punching in the alarm code to disarm it. Setting the squirming animal on the floor, he threw his keys on the entry table and walked tiredly to the kitchen. Cujo scampered off, happy to be at his second home.

He made himself a sandwich and ate only half of it before wrapping the rest in cling-wrap and putting it in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch. That was another thing Danny loved to tease him about . . . his thriftiness. That is, Steve called it 'thrifty'. Danny called it being a 'cheap bastard'. He had better things to do with his money . . . like buy candy for mangled vet-techs.

He took care of Cujo's needs then turned off the light and headed upstairs. He just wanted to lie down and sleep off the headache that still plagued him on and off from the Korean mess.

He wondered what Joe was up to right now. In spite of the Shelburne battle with the older man, he really missed him. Cath was far away somewhere as well. Danny, well, he had his own life.

Steve still felt guilty about the thing with Rachel. If Danny'd been able to get to Jersey instead of having to fix his giant fuck-up with Governor Jameson and Wo Fat . . .

Anyway, he was trying not to lean so heavily on his stressed friend. He already felt as though he'd taken too much from his partner who, at times, was mother hen to the world. Steve had, surely, used up his quota of goodwill.

He owed Danny his life in so many ways. He'd never be able to repay him. Right now, the best he could do for him is to stay out of his way and try to keep from getting into anything Danny had to get him out of. He wasn't used to being so dependent on anyone and he didn't want to burden his friend.

As he got ready for bed, he could hear the little cat thundering around the house. For such a small animal, he had a heavy step. It sounded like a herd of cattle had stampeded across the floor. He shut off the lamp and lay down with a sigh, feeling the thud as Cujo landed on the bed, then hearing the soothing purr as the small animal crept up to the pillow next to him and curled up on it.

It was nice having another living creature in the house. He'd been alone for so long, he hadn't realized how nice it could be. At least he didn't have to yell at the cat to turn the volume down on the television or tell it to take shorter showers. Maybe he really was an OCD asshole control freak as Danny had called him during their last noisy go-round before they'd ended the temporary living arrangement.

Steve wouldn't admit it but, maybe it had been his fault. He'd lived alone for so long, it was hard to adjust to someone else. How was he ever going to ask Cath to share his life if he couldn't even share his house with his best friend?

He sighed and tried to empty his mind. Hoping to actually fall asleep before the dark thoughts came back to haunt him. Sometimes, he didn't even have to fall asleep, all he had to do was close his eyes and he could see Jenna's face with its expression of fear and resignation before she slid the pin across the floor to him.

The gunshots always woke him. When Wo Fat put those three rounds into her chest, he'd wake drenched in sweat and gasping as though he'd run a marathon.

Maybe tonight would be different.

...

Danny could tell when his partner wasn't getting any sleep. He assumed it was due to the lingering effects of his torture at the hands of that bastard Wo Fat.

He knew Chin and Kono could also recognize it when Steve would come into the office hollow eyed and drawn. Even Lori had asked him if Steve had been getting any sleep.

The quiet man had become even quieter. Even Cujo's antics would only distract him for a short while. He would smile briefly and maybe even laugh but it didn't last for long and the smile never reached his eyes.

He wasn't even winning the battle to regain the weight he'd lost. The team, regularly, tried to lure him into eating the high calorie snacks they'd bring into the office. The only thing they'd accomplished so far was to expand their own waistlines though none of them was in danger of becoming 'chubby'.

Danny was worried about his partner. Joe had left for parts unknown. The older man was the only one who even had a remote chance of getting Steve to slow down and take care of himself. The SEAL was more intensely driven than ever. After Korea, once he'd gotten out of the hospital; the man seemed to no longer have an 'off' switch. He became even more focused on his job.

He was also taking greater chances.

Yes, Danny Williams was very worried about his reckless, dam-the-torpedos, freak of a ninja-SEAL partner.

...

The shots woke him again.

The little cat on the pillow next to him squeaked in alarm as his human sat straight up and looked around in panic before realizing he was at home, safe in his own bed.

Cujo climbed into his lap and looked up at his face intently. Steve automatically stroked the soft fur as his heart slowed and his breathing evened out into something that wasn't a breathless gasp.

He wiped his face with the back of his arm and lay down again as the cat settled itself onto his chest and began to purr, the vibration traveling from its small body into his. The little cat seemed to know this was needed; it was almost a nightly ritual now.

Steve lay awake for quite awhile. There were so many things that had gone wrong in his life. So many memories of things he coudn't fix, couldn't prevent. He wished he could turn it all off. The memories, too many of them, were making him feel as though he were being crushed under their weight.

He hadn't gotten any significant sleep since he'd come back. He didn't want to take the pills the doctor had prescribed when he was still in the hospital and Danny had ratted him out about the nightmares. During a visit, the perceptive detective had witnessed him waking from one. The drugs only made him feel out of it the next day.

He knew he had to do something soon. He felt frayed and out of balance. He felt he'd soon be smothered by the very density of the dark memories.

His felt his body slowly relax as the soothing sound of purring and its comforting vibration began to lull him back into sleep.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**Let me know what you think of this chapter if you'd be so kind.**


	4. Out of the Bag

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

Chapter 4

**This was one of the chapters written quite some time ago. I don't usually write them in order, ADD isn't very conducive to linear construction. I count it as a win if I can get to the end of the chapter without wandering off. In the meantime, part of the story is a little too like a segment in episode 16. I didn't engage in any plagiarism honest but, it is kinda creepy.**

**My sincere thanks to those who reviewed, alerted and favorited. You guys really do make this worthwhile.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd be on Mr. O'Loughlin's case to gain a couple of pounds. If I was his mama, I'd be worried about him.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Out of the Bag

Crap! He'd left the canvas bag at the office. Since Cujo had already proven, (like some sort of furry, heat seeking missile), he could locate and strike his target right through the cloth of a pillowcase; this was going to be a stressful and/or painful experience for all involved.

Today's vaccinations against the feline diseases Steve could barely pronounce were the last ones until next year . . . Thank God.

Cujo wound around his legs as his human poured himself a glass of juice and quickly downed it then immediately rinsed the tumbler and put it in the dish rack.

He picked up the cat and grabbed his keys before setting the alarm and locking the door behind him.

Cujo wasn't suspicious of anything yet. This was just another commute to the big place with the juicy mice as far as he was concerned.

The cat took his usual place on the dash and they made their way through morning traffic to the veterinary clinic.

The tall man was glad the vet opened this early. He shouldn't be that late to work, providing everything went smoothly. That thought was a funny one. Since when had anything gone as expected? He'd planned ops that had a better chance of going the way they were supposed to. With the disposition of the animal on the dash and his own luck, chances weren't good.

Cujo looked at him suspiciously as Steve parked and cut the engine in front of the building housing the clinic. There came a low growl as his human reached toward him.

_Yup, he knows where he is_, thought Steve, pulling his hand back and waiting a moment. Then, with a lightening quick movement, he grabbed the cat by the scruff; trying to ignore the incredibly loud howls and threats issuing from the small, angry cat.

He put his hand under the cat's hind quarters, careful to support Cujo's weight while trying to avoid his razor sharp hind claws from which he still bore the marks. He knew mother cats carried around their offspring by the scruffs of their necks but it had to hurt . . . didn't it?

It wasn't easy to get out of the truck while trying to control the squirming, swearing little cat but, somehow he managed, slamming the truck's door shut with his foot.

As he entered the building by backing into the glass door and pushing it open with his body while maneuvering to hold the frighteningly loud creature at arms length; the receptionist looked up, as did everyone in the clinic. She seemed to pale at the sight of the howling cat and its owner coming toward her desk.

"Hi Commander." she said grimacing at a particularly loud screech coming from the dangling bundle of evil. "Just one moment." with that, she nearly sprinted to the swinging door between the reception area and the back office, disappearing behind it.

There were a couple of dogs and their owners in the waiting area designated as the 'dog' side of the clinic.

A big yellow lab whined and tried to hide under the chair in which its owner sat. The dog was large enough that it managed to fit only its front end under the plastic chair.

_Chicken _thought McGarrett.

Just then, in a flash, an overly excited Yorkie escaped its owner when it abruptly tugged the leash out of her hand and came yapping forward; looking for all the world like the world's most annoying wind-up toy.

Seeing the dog; Cujo hissed like a flattening tire and, somehow, managed to turn around in his own hide to sink his fangs into Steve's forearm.

"Ouch! Dammit!" yelled the tall man trying to keep hold of the furiously squirming animal without being bitten again. The Yorkie took that moment to bite into his leg, just above the top of his boot, as its helpless owner screamed at it to cease its attack.

Trying to shake the little rat loose, the tall man yelped "Hey! No! Bad dog!"

"Atilla! Stop it! screamed the dog's now terrified owner.

Atilla, obviously not smart enough to recognize his life was in danger, or if he did, suicidally ignoring it, didn't stop his assault on the tall man's ankle. Steve heard the rip as his pant leg tore while the little dog growled furiously around the mouthful of cloth.

Still trying to shake the dog off his leg, he lost his balance when the Yorkie's leash wrapped around his other leg and with a thud, Steve crashed ungracefully to the tile floor.

Cujo twisted out of his grasp and, with a sound guaranteed to haunt the nightmares of everyone within earshot, launched himself at the little dog.

"Cujo! No! Bad kitty!" yelled McGarrett trying to untangle himself from the leash and grab for the cat at the same time.

At that moment, the big lab wet the floor then made a break for it; trying to get as much distance between himself and what was sure to be wholesale slaughter. The dog may have been cowardly but, it wasn't stupid.

The big lab drug his owner across the floor. The long haired young man was doing his best to hold the dog back but, one more strong lunge toward the door, he hit the floor as well, skidding along on his belly behind his frantic dog.

"Fuzzball, you shithead! Get back here!" yelled the kid as the dog pulled him along like a sled toward the exit.

_Fuzzball? _For some strange reason, that was the thought that ran through the SEAL's head in the middle of the chaos.

The small dog, seeming to suddenly realize his miscalculation, turned tail and ran back toward his mistress, yelping as a sharp claw managed to catch his tail.

His owner, now recognizing that both her dog and an incredibly frightening creature that might be a cat, were now rushing toward her, screamed in terror and ran in the opposite direction, managing to trip over Fuzzball's leash as the big dog was doing his best to drag himself and the now, colorfully swearing young man, to safety.

Steve made one last desperate, diving, grab for the angry grey blur that streaked behind the terrified brown one toward a loudly screeching woman. Unfortunately, the only part of Cujo he managed to catch was his tail.

It was one of those things that seemed to happen in slow motion, like in the movies.

The SEAL practically saw his life flashing before his eyes as he closed his hand around the furry handle and with a snarl, the cat turned with all intent to kill whoever or whatever had gotten hold of his tail.

Suddenly, a blanket settled over the bundle of murderous intent and strong hands seemed to come from nowhere to sweep him up in a deft movement.

Having immediately let go of his cat's tail, McGarrett looked upward to see everyone's, especially Atilla's, savior. A tan, smiling face looked down at the man on the floor.

"Hi, I'm Karl" said the man as he almost nonchalantly subdued the animal squirming under the blanket, tucking the bundle under one arm while offering the other to help the man on the floor.

"Thanks, Karl" said McGarrett fervently as he stood far more gracefully than he'd landed and quickly went to check the other victims of his pet's mayhem; ignoring his stinging wounds for the moment.

Everyone was scared shitless but, other than their pride, no additional humans nor animals were injured in the making of the catastrophe.

The woman who now had the shivering rat, Atilla, cowering in her arms smiled back at him apologetically. "I'm so, so sorry!" she said. "Atilla just doesn't like cats. Are you OK?"

The SEAL was surprised the woman had beat him to an apology. He'd been ready to apologize for his cat attempting to filet her dog and hoped she'd accept it.

"Uhh, yeah. I'm fine." he said in puzzlement, following her gaze toward his ankle. His pant leg was in tatters, _Dammit this was his newest pair of cargos,_ and a small amount of blood stained the torn cloth.

"Don't worry about it, we'll just call it even." he assured her. She smiled somewhat shakily with relief as she tried to shush the now whining Atilla.

Next, he checked on the owner of Fuzzball. The young man had regained control of the big dog and managed to drag him back to his seat in the waiting room. Fuzzball cowered pathetically under the chair once again, (well at least the front part of him was under it).

"We're OK brah, no worries." smiled the long haired kid trying to comfort his distressed animal. He looked embarrassed.

_Probably for naming the dog Fuzzball,_ thought McGarrett.

"He, uhh . . . he doesn't like cats much." said the young man apologetically.

"I kinda got that feeling." smiled the tall man, turning back to the still unhappily yowling, blanket wrapped bundle in Karl's arms.

"Hey, thanks a lot. I owe you big time." said McGarrett sincerely

"Don't worry about it. Pat had me come in with her this morning. She knew Cujo was scheduled for an appointment today.

"Well, thanks anyway. I'm sure you saved some lives, mine included." smiled the tall man. "How'd you get so good at subduing cats?"

"Oh, my specialty isn't cats, it's reptiles. I'm the director of the snake exhibit at the Honolulu Zoo. I'm also Pat's husband. She'd come home with stories of a certain grey cat who could strike like a snake!" he laughed, "I thought maybe, since snakes are my specialty, I'd come in and help her with a furry one."

"Well, I usually have to get the girls a box of candy after a visit" laughed McGarrett, "You want chocolate or a six-pack?"

"Actually, beer sounds pretty good." smiled the trim, sandy haired man.

"Just let me get Cujo into the back and in a cage before he escapes and eats a couple of dogs . . . and their owners" he laughed "Pat's just finishing up with a patient, she'll be out to talk to you in a minute."

While he waited for the vet, Patricia Charteris, to make an appearance, he went back to the dog's owners to assure himself that everyone was OK. This had been a close call.

Patricia, petite and attractive, came out from the back office with a smile on her face. "So, you've met my husband I take it?" she laughed

"Yeah, thank God. If he hadn't been there, 'Slaughter in Honolulu Vet Clinic' would have made a pretty startling headline."

"Yeah, he can come in handy sometimes" she laughed

"I promised him a six-pack of beer for catching Cujo and saving everyone."

"Oh, good, Janet and Joanie are starting to gain weight from all of that candy though I'm sure they'll be disappointed. Getting chocolates from a handsome man is the highlight of their week, minus the bloodshed that is."

"Well, they've certainly earned whatever you pay them." said McGarrett, looking a little uncomfortable about the 'handsome' remark.

"Hey!" she said with concern "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing" he said looking down at his stained and ripped pant leg.

"I'm talking about your arm." she said

"Oh, yeah" he replied as the stinging wound once again broke into his consciousness. Blood was running down his arm to drip onto the tile. "He really got me good this time." he said as he examined the fang marks.

"You do know, Commander, most people wouldn't keep an animal like Cujo." she said matter-of-factly.

He looked surprised. He hadn't thought about it. Somehow the cat and his quirks were a normal part of his abnormal life. Cujo just fit in somehow.

"Yeah, well, he has his moments" laughed McGarrett. "he's not always such an assho . . . . ahh, difficult animal."

She noted his slip and grinned at the embarrassed man. "That's OK Commander, you can call him an asshole; that's what the rest of us call him . . . among other things."

She laughed heartily at the tall man's expression of surprise and his slight flush of embarrassment. She agreed with ... and Joanie. The man was quite handsome. Possibly, the only reason his 'difficult' cat was still her patient was because she also looked forward to his visits. She was a married woman, yes, but it didn't hurt to admire the scenery every once in a while.

"You'd better get your arm looked at." she said before she lost herself in the dark blue eyes with the impossibly long lashes.

"Oh, it's OK. I've had worse."

"Cat bites are particularly nasty." she said, "You need to get it tended to."

"I assure you, Doctor Charteris, I've had all my shots, and not that long ago. Any germs or bacteria don't stand a chance right now."

She looked at him questioningly but when he didn't elaborate said, "Well, let me clean that up for you at least. Come on into the back."

He followed her to an empty exam room where she cleaned the bites on both his arm and his ankle. The antiseptic stung like a bitch. Though both bites were minor, he was still kinda pissed about the pants. She put ointment and bandages on both injuries and jokingly asked, "Do we have to put a plastic cone on you to keep you from bothering your bandages?" she teased.

"Someone's already threatened me with that." he laughed "What do I owe you for the patch job? Does this count as another office visit?"

"No charge for you Commander but, I should charge extra for Cujo's visit."

"Sorry about that, really." he said sincerely

"Believe it or not, he's not the only cat with that temperament that I've had the 'pleasure' of treating. It's amazing what pet owners will tolerate from their animals."

"That's what my partner says, only the way he put it is: 'You are freakin' nuts to put up with that piranha with fur."

"Danny's the blonde man who was coming in with you a few months ago when Cujo was inured?'

"Yeah, that's him. He's kind of hard to ignore. He and Cujo don't get along very well."

"I kind of got that impression, yes."

"Well, Doc. What do you suggest we do about Cujo?"

"Why don't you leave him here for the rest of the day. He's pretty stressed right now and I don't want anyone losing any appendages trying to handle him right now. We'll give him time to calm down a little before trying to give him the injections."

"Sounds like a good idea." agreed McGarrett, actually relieved he wouldn't have to transport the evil tempered animal right now. "Remember though, he can hold a grudge for quite awhile."

"Yeah, I'm afraid we found that out the hard way." she said raising her eyebrows.

"Well, I'd better get to work then. Thank your husband again for me. I'll see you later, Oh, and I'll call to find out what brand of beer he wants.

...

When he arrived at the office, he tried to be as invisible as possible sneaking in quietly and trying to get to his office before anyone noticed he'd come in. No such luck. Danny had been waiting for his appearance and when he spotted the bandaged arm and tattered, blood-stained pant leg, he doubled over in laughter.

Realizing he was busted, the tall man shot him a dark glare and stalked to his office and forcefully shut the door behind him.

Through the glass, he could see Danny still laughing and then gathering Chin, Kono and Lori to stare at him and laugh as though he were on exhibit at the zoo.

His partner was having entirely too much fun at his expense and besides, the bites were beginning to hurt like hell. He tried to ignore them but, finally, losing his temper flung open his office door and yelled, "Bite me!" to his hysterical partner. That only sent him into another round of hysterical laughter.

"Bite you? Looks like something already did, big guy." With that, Lori and the cousins scattered and the blonde detective happily got back to his paperwork, even whistling a tune as he did it. This wasn't turning out to be such a bad day after all.

He was wrong again.

...

He'd been so focused on taking down that meth dealer who'd strangled his wife and left her body by the side of the road like so much trash, he didn't even see the red sports car barreling down on him as he sprinted across the roadway in pursuit.

Luckily, because the car was so low to the ground, it only knocked him ass over teakettle and he'd rolled over its hood to crash onto the asphalt on the other side.

He was also lucky in that traffic coming in the opposite direction had enough time to stop before finishing what his collision with the car had started. Seeing his partner become a flying object nearly made Danny's own heart stop as he rushed to see if Steve was still alive.

McGarrett lay in an unmoving heap on the road. Danny rushed up to him, dropping to his knees and not even registering the discomfort in his bad knee. He was relieved to see his partner starting to stir; groaning and attempting to sit up.

"Where'd he go!" were the SEAL's first words to his monumentally worried and, now, pissed-off partner.

"Don't even think about going after him you idiot!" said the blonde man as he began to assess the damage. The only visible evidence of the impact between man and metal was a heavily bleeding gash on his forehead and a hole ripped into the knee of his cargos.

"Danny, he's getting away!" said the still bleeding man as he did his best to try to get to his feet. The detective put his hand against his partner's chest to keep him on the ground. If there was anything seriously wrong with him, he didn't want the idiot to injure himself further .

"Stay down, dammit! He's not going to get far. There are enough cops around here to keep a flea corralled. Don't. Move."

The prone man looked into the eyes of his very adamant partner and saw he was going to lose this argument. He lay back down and waited for the world to stop dancing around him. Maybe getting up at this moment wasn't such a good idea anyway.

There was one more minor confrontation when Steve insisted a visit to the hospital wasn't necessary. Danny knew this wasn't unusual behavior for his stoic, man-of-steel asshole partner but, the detective prevailed. Steve was put in the back of the ambulance still protesting that it was a waste of everyone's time.

After x-rays, tests and the doctor's evaluation, he'd been released on the condition that someone, (that usually meant his beleagured partner), watch over him through the night and wake him every couple of hours. The head scan had looked OK; there was no fracture but, the doctor didn't want to rule out a concussion. The ribs were going to be quite painful but, if he behaved himself, they should heal in a few weeks.

Danny assured him he knew the drill and would ride herd on the stubborn man.

As Steve stiffly folded himself into the Camaro, not even insisting on driving for a change, he groused, "Danny, I don't need a babysitter. I'm fine. Just a coupla cracked ribs, scrapes and bruises. I don't have a concussion."

His fed-up partner didn't even bother to reply. He just started the engine and stared straight ahead, his jaws clamped tightly, a throbbing vein visible on his temple. He stayed that way for the entire trip twenty minute trip to the McGarrett home. Steve tried several more times to protest his partner's assignment as 'babysitter' before he realized Danny wasn't even bothering to acknowledge him.

Sighing tiredly in resignation, the tall man slumped back into his seat and closed his eyes against the too bright sunlight glaring through the windshield.

Not another word issued from either man on the trip home. Steve knew this was only the calm before Storm Danny and his stomach tightened. Danny's silence never bode well for the tall man.

Cujo was waiting for him at the door but seemed to sense this wasn't the time to demand to be fed or petted. He took one look at Danny and, seeming to mutter under his breath, retreated toward the den.

He didn't have long to wait before the onslaught. Once the door was closed behind them and the bag of 'patient's belongings' was set on the floor next to it, the sky opened and the wind blew.

"WHAT THE HELL'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!" This 'statement', (Steve knew from past experience it wasn't really a question), was accompanied by his partner's furious gestures.

"Do you have a death wish! 'Cause, if you do, let me know right now so I can plan the funeral and get my uniform cleaned!"

"Danny, I . . . "

"Shut up, you moron! Did we, your ohana, go after your ass into that stinking , Godforsaken jungle just so you could complete the job that bastard started! Huh!"

"Danny . . . "

"Shut up! Have you not spent enough time recovering from your own reckless and suicidal stupidity!"

"Look, Danny . . . "

"I'm not done yet! Why are you talking! What am I gonna tell Cath and my daughter when you finally manage to get yourself killed, huh! Whether you think so or not, there are people who may actually miss your psychotic, adrenaline fueled, entirely over-confident ass if you manage to become one with the universe!"

The tall man had become completely and resignedly silent, not even trying to interrupt the furious little man now that he was in full rant. Number one: It was useless to try. Number two: Steve knew, deep down, Danny might have reason to rant.

After another few minutes of the angry harangue, the blonde man, finally, seemed to run out of steam. Steve had dropped his head, looking down at the floor like a chastised schoolboy.

They were still standing in the middle of the living room. When he realized Danny was done yelling, (for the moment at least), McGarrett took the few steps to the sofa and tiredly lowered himself onto it. He sat there silently staring at the carpet.

"Steve?" asked Danny in a much quieter voice; his partner hadn't looked up in several minutes. Maybe he was actually listening this time?

When he did look up, Danny's chest constricted. Steve's eyes had always given him away. They were much too expressive for his partner not to be able to read them like a headline in the morning news.

This time, Danny read pain, confusion and . . . regret?

"Babe, talk to me, please. What's going on in that scary head of yours?"

There were no other sounds in the big house. The only thing to be heard was the pounding of the waves that relentlessly spent themselves on the sand, leaving their foamy reminders as each one withdrew again into the sea.

After another long pause, the tall man quietly began . . .

"I was still hanging from the chains when that . . . bastard shot her. Just like that. Almost like it was a casual thing, an afterthought. There was no hesitation, no change in his expression. No anger, nothing."

"He executed her in front of you?" asked Danny softly though he knew the answer before the words left his lips.

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine how tough that must have been to see."

"I couldn't do anything to help her. I . . . I was just there to watch her die." The dark blue eyes glistened with tears. "I couldn't do . . . anything. Not a godammed fucking thing!" the tears spilled over to run down his drawn face in the semi darkness of the room. No one had as yet turned on a light.

"Is that why you're not sleeping?"

"Some of it but, there's something else . . . "

"What is it?"

"I . . . I can't" said the tall man in a choked whisper.

"Babe, you can tell me anything. We're brothers. Hell, you and I are closer than I ever was to Matty."

Steve looked intently into his partner's eyes; searching; as if looking for some sort of answer there.

"Danny?"

"Tell me, it's OK. There's nothing you can say that would make me change my mind about you Steven. Nothing."

The tears continued to fall silently for a moment before he whispered, "How am I different from Wo Fat?"

Danny couldn't believe he'd heard the question correctly. It was so startling. Why would his partner, a man who'd spent nearly every moment of his life protecting people, even ask such a question. Danny was too dumbfounded to even answer.

"Steven, why would you ask such a question. You're so different from that bastard, it's not even a germ of a question. Why did you ask that? Tell me."

After awhile, Danny thought his partner wasn't going to answer. Maybe he couldn't. It's OK he had all night. He'd be here until the cows came home if he could help his partner resolve this terrible . . . whatever it was.

"I can't do this anymore." came a whisper. So soft. So anguished.

For once, Danny didn't say a word. He sat down on the sofa next to his friend; not making a sound as though it might break the spell. The one that had, finally, opened the gates to the stony fortress that was Steve McGarrett.

"What Steve, what is it you can't do anymore?" asked the blonde man, aching with the need to help this man, his friend.

"You know, I . . . I've been doing this my whole adult life. I can kill people in a hundred different ways and . . . I've used too many of them. When I pulled the trigger or felt a neck snap, Danny, so help me, I didn't feel anything . . . nothing. Not sorry, not sad . . . nothing. But now, I feel sad all the time. I feel like . . . "

Williams didn't know what to say. His mouth actually opened in astonishment but no words came out. How damaged was his friend?

He'd seen Steve do just that; pull the trigger and end a life. He, himself, was surprised when it didn't seem to result in any obvious emotional response from the tall man except maybe relief that the 'mission' was over. He had to admit, it did bother him but, he assumed it was the training his friend had been subject to; he hoped that's what it was.

"Danny, I didn't _feel_ anything! They were just targets; they could have been made of fucking paper for all that I felt when I . . . killed them. What's wrong with me? How can you say that I'm not like Wo Fat when that's what I saw when he killed Jenna . . . nothing. No feeling. Nothing. I'm like that too. There's nothing there anymore."

"Steven, I know I've called you emotionally stunted but, I wasn't serious. You just weren't raised in an environment conducive to being 'touchy-feely' as you'd put it. You're not unfeeling. If you were, how could we even be having this conversation right now?"

His partner didn't answer. He, once again, stared at the carpet.

"You can't compare yourself to Wo Fat. There isn't any comparison. The man is a monster. You are _not_ a monster. I've seen you with my daughter, I've seen you with people you're trying to help. You are not like him; no how, no way."

"I feel like I've been dropped in a country that has a language I don't speak. I see people . . . connecting . . . feeling. Danny, I don't think I'm like that; like you."

"Steven, you can't compare me to you. Look at the difference in how we were raised. You grew up in a place where, for your own protection, you had to distance yourself to protect yourself from getting hurt."

"I, on the other hand, grew up in a loud, obnoxious family that didn't hold anything back, good or bad. Sometimes that's not a good thing either. Trust me. I knew that pretty much anything I could've done or said wouldn't get me bounced out of it . . . or killed."

The tall man said nothing, he continued to look at the carpet, his thumb rubbing compulsively over his wrist as though trying to rub the hurt out of his skin.

"Babe, you speak the language, maybe not as fluently as some of us but, you know most of the words. Your past and your training may have dampened emotional reactions but, they're not eliminated. Just relax. Stop trying so hard."

"You are a warrior. It's how you've lived for what? Seventeen, eighteen years? Warriors can't afford to give into feeling bad for the enemy. If you hesitate, either you or someone you're trying to protect may die. Compassionate sometimes, yeah, I've seen you do that but, not a 'bleeding heart' as you often put it. It's self protection, something we all have to do in one way or another."

Steve looked up at him. The hurt and the pain so visible on his too lean face.

"I'll help you. We'll all help you." said the blonde man as he put a hand on his distressed friend's shoulder. "You once told me I'm not alone here and neither are you. You have a family Steven. Maybe we're not related by blood but, just as strong, just as unbreakable. We'd do whatever it takes to protect one of our own; you know that."

"When I close my eyes . . . I don't even have to be asleep anymore . . . I see her face . . . I see Jenna." He hugged himself tightly and seemed to try to compact himself into a smaller space. Trying to hide in his own skin. He looked so tired, so defeated.

"Danny, I'm falling apart and . . . I'm scared."

The revelation was almost too much for the blonde man. He couldn't even breathe after Steve's admission of being scared. Danny had almost convinced himself the man wasn't afraid of anything. He was strong, brave, invincible, he was damned near bulletproof.

Maybe it was time to cut himself some slack. Time to 'stand down'.

"Steven, you're not superman. Whether you admit it or not, you are only human like the rest of us. Yes, I know people expect a lot from you but, not nearly as much as you expect from yourself. It's time to take a break, time to get your head together. It's time to realize you have as much value as the rest of us humans.

"Danny, I don't know how to stop. It's what I am and maybe I'm not good at it anymore but, if not that . . . then what? If I don't have that, I don't have a connection. I still feel like a stranger; like I was dropped here from another planet sometimes. Like I don't belong here."

"Well, that explains your attachment to that cat at least. You really are from the same home planet." joked Williams, though not laughing.

"Maybe so." he smiled sadly.

The blonde man reached to hug his partner close to him, feeling Steve at first tense at the contact then relax into the embrace. Warm, silent tears spilled onto his shirt as his friend buried his face against his shoulder.

They stayed that away for a several minutes, neither man saying anything more. Steve finally pulled away, wiping his hand over his face; looking embarrassed by the display.

"Look, like it or not, I'm here for the evening. Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap. I'll figure out some sort of dinner. I'm sure you've only got wheat germ and fortified pineapple concentrate or something equally as disgusting in your fridge but, I'll work around it."

Steve gave his partner a small but genuine smile and silently nodded his head. Walking back to the door to to pick-up the bag he'd set down when he came in, he turned and walked tiredly up the stairway.

A small, grey cat followed him silently up the steps to the bedroom to lay against him as he finally fell into a, for now, dreamless sleep.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**If you'd like to review or just make a quick comment, it would make me very happy.**


	5. Hope and Dreams

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

Chapter 5

**Here's another. Not a whole lot happens in this but whump is on the horizon. Thank you to simplyn2deep for pointing out an omission in the previous chapter. Hope this fixes it without too much of a stretch. As usual, all errors are mine. I can't foist them off on anyone else but I am thinking of inventing a fictional beta to blame them on.**

**Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams. The ones in which I swim off into the sunset with a tall tattooed guy. Never mind that I never learned to swim and suspect that, right now, I weigh more than he does.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Hope and Dreams

Steve insisted on being driven to work the next morning. He wouldn't be OK'd to drive himself for a couple more days. Danny relented when he could see the nearly frantic restlessness beneath his partner's surface. Maybe Steve was better off not being home by himself with just a psychotic cat for company.

He almost changed his mind when he realized he was expected to take the evil animal with them.

He'd actually not even thought about the cat after Steve's ill-fated dash across a busy street yesterday. At the hospital, Kono called as he was waiting for his idiot partner to be released after his tests.

She said some guy named Karl had dropped the feisty little cat off at the office because he was upsetting the other animals at the clinic with his yowling. Apparently, it started as soon as Steve had left and hadn't lessened or ceased in hours. Danny thought that a vet's office would have been used to that but had to admit, the little piranha would have made Mother Theresa want to get a gun.

They'd decided it would be best for him to 'calm down at home', so they brought him, (read that; dumped him off), where they figured Steve was. Karl also told Kono that Steve now owed him _two_ six-packs of Dos Equis. She didn't ask him why but, she might be able to guess.

Kono had dropped him off at Steve's place then gone back to work. Steve wouldn't be in any shape to drive and she doubted that Danny would be willing to make another trip to get the cat home. Everyone on the team knew where the extra key was hidden and the code to the alarm. Steve's house was practically Five-0's second home.

"Oh, no no no, I'm not the frickin' pet taxi! I'll haul _your_ scrawny ass around but not that Tasmanian Devil masquerading as a cat!"

"D, he has to go with. Today's his appointment for his rabies shot."

"I thought he was done with all his damned shots."

What the detective didn't know was that Steve had gotten a call from the clinic saying Janet and Joanie, the vet techs, had thrown in the towel before they got to the rabies vaccination and Cujo was, at that very moment, trying to shred his way out of the cardboard carrier they'd put him in.

In the background, the Five-0 commander could hear a suspiciously familiar, loud, and very angry feline voice. He was about to ask why Cujo was even_ in_ a pet carrier when he had to hang up because they'd gotten a call about a meth dealer wanted for murder. The dangerous man was making his way across Honolulu toward the marina where he had a boat stashed.

McGarrett had neglected to apprise his partner of the change in plans for the detective's favorite barracuda with fur. Of course, later, it didn't seem quite so important after getting his ass run over by a speeding car and all.

"Oh, so I'm going to be expected to run the little freak to the vet? How did I wind up being the friggin' kitty limo!" The detective launched into a rant complete with arm waving and colorful language but, today, it didn't really entertain his partner; it only pissed him off.

McGarrett suddenly snapped, "You know what. Just forget it! We'll take a fucking taxi if it's so beneath you. I'm sorry I asked! I'm sorry I even . . . " the tall man had raised his voice to an uncharacteristic level, gesturing wildly with his hands; sort of like Danny was wont to do.

"Whoa, whoa!" soothed the blonde man. "Don't get excited Steven. I don't have a problem taking either of you to an appointment. I'm just . . . . "

"I know." said McGarrett, realizing he'd over-reacted and running a hand through his short hair, managing to make it look messy in spite of its length.

"Just calm down. We're gonna take a nice, relaxing ride to the office. I didn't mean anything. You know that." This outburst was very unlike his usually tolerant partner. His tolerance, of course, reserved for the members of his team and that damnable cat.

"I know Danny. You're just being you. I don't seem to be in much of a mood today. Sorry for yelling."

"Tell me about it." smiled Danny, trying to reassure his partner that no harm had been done. It just testified to how close to the edge his partner still was and, getting an immediate apology . . . well, that just wasn't Steve.

The man almost never raised his voice. He didn't have to. He was at his scariest when his voice dropped to an eerily calm near whisper and his eyes held the most chillingly cold stare this side of an arctic blizzard.

"Just get your wolverine and let's go. Your limo awaits." gestured Danny theatrically toward the door.

His partner gave him a slight smile and gathered up the 'wolverine'.

The three went out the door and down the walk to the waiting Camaro. A neighbor, who'd come out to pick-up his morning paper, heard an annoyed voice that came from the other side of the hedge say, "Dammit, McGarrett, he's not riding on the dash!"

...

"Hey Boss, you OK?" asked Kono, nodding toward the bandage on her boss's forehead as they walked into the office. The tall man bent rather slowly and carefully to set down the cat who immediately scampered off to look for game.

"Yeah, I'm fine really. Danny says the car got the worst of it." he smiled

"Thanks to your rock hard head." said Williams. "Must have been like running into a Buick." He considered his statement not much of an exaggeration. How the man escaped that horrific collision with only 'minor' injuries he had no idea.

The stay at the office lasted only another hour. After awhile, Danny could see his partner grimace nearly every time he had to move. He'd been watching Steve closely for any sign of increased pain or discomfort. The man wasn't one to even admit he may be in pain, let alone give in to it and go home . . . like normal people.

"Where's your pain pills, superman?" he said as he entered Steve's glass enclosed office.

"Uhh . . . "

"You didn't bring them did you?" he said accusingly to the pale and now sheepish looking man.

"Well . . . "

"Alright, game's over big guy. Let's go."

"I haven't finished!"

"Yeah, you have."

"Danny, dammit I'm not a kid. I've got more paperwork to do." he leaned to get something out of one of his lower desk drawers and almost couldn't get back upright in his chair. He swayed slightly and his face paled but his expression didn't change. Danny watched as McGarrett tried to cover his discomfort but it was too late; his very observant partner had already seen it.

"Yes, Steven, I agree, you're not a kid. You're a stubborn sonofabitch who sometimes doesn't have the sense god gave a hamster when it comes to taking care of yourself!"

McGarrett gave his partner the glare that only Danny was capable of eliciting from him. The one that never seemed to have any effect on the blonde man.

"Don't give me that look! Go on, superSEAL, if you're so OK, go ahead. Stand up and walk out of your office right now. If you can do that, then you're OK enough to stay."

"OK, I will." snapped the annoyed commander, rising to the challenge, or 'bait' his partner put forth.

"Fine." smugly said Williams as he gestured for the pale man to stand.

"Fine" said the pale man through clenched teeth.

McGarrett slowly stood and took a step from behind his desk. So far so good. He took another step around the side of his desk. Good. Now, came the hard part, actually making it to the door.

Danny had to admire the man's stubbornness because he almost made it. Just as he reached out to grab the door handle, his breath caught and his arms wrapped around his chest as the muscles holding his ribs in place spasmed. He closed his eyes tightly against the pain and allowed his partner to guide him to the couch.

"Close but no cigar, big guy." said Danny almost smugly.

"Shit!"

"Well, if you'd remembered to bring your meds, the ones that I so thoughtfully picked up for you at the hospital pharmacy, you'd have been able to stay longer. Since that wasn't a thought in your still scrambled little brain, you're going home SuperSEAL."

"Cujo's got an appointment. He still has to get his rabies shot." gasped the man still clinging to the faint hope he wouldn't be sent home like a misbehaving schoolboy.

"That's gonna have to wait, cat lady. I'm sure he's already rabid anyway. That would actually explain a lot."

The cat's appointment was postponed for the moment, especially since both Chin and Kono had, suddenly, decided they needed to go see Max about . . . something . . . or maybe it was Charlie Fong or Kamekona?

Like it or not, Five-0's commander had the day off. The doctor had ordered he not go back to work at all for at least a week and then, only in a supervisory capacity; no field work. Most people would have welcomed the time off. Steve McGarrett wasn't most people.

Once again, the silver 'kitty limo' made the drive back to Pikoi Street, a small grey animal clinging to the dash like a furry barnacle.

...

Steve had dropped Cujo off that morning before going to his doctor's visit, hopefully the last one. He'd been cleared to drive so Danny was absolved of his taxi duties.

Since Cujo had been home with his chosen human the last few days, the office was beginning to become overrun with the mice that had been evicted from the building next door which was in the process of renovation.

Yesterday was the last straw. Danny had opened his desk drawer to get a snack from his stash and discovered that 'Mickey' had beat him to it. He'd been about to reach into the box of goldfish crackers when a furry little creature popped out of it and skittered across the top of his desk. The detective watched in shock as it jumped off and disappeared behind his file cabinet.

Just then, a scream came from the office across the way. He pulled his gun and went toward the sound. Chin and Kono also rushed out of their offices guns drawn and ran toward where Danny was now standing. The blonde man was trying to keep from laughing aloud as he stood at the doorway of their newest member's office.

Lori Weston, the cool, collected, profiler who could actually fire an RPG, was kneeling on top of her desk and searching the floor frantically around it.

"Problem?" asked the smirking detective as he put his gun back into its holster.

"I HATE mice!" said the woman on the desk, trying not to look embarrassed while _on _her desk rather than _behind_ it.

"I kinda guessed that." said the blonde man. _This is cute. Who knew the no-nonsense woman was such a 'girl'._

"Oh, come on Lori!" said Kono from her place next to Danny at the doorway, "You're going to give the women a bad name for being afraid of a tiny little rodent."

"Too late, cuz." said Chin smiling as he also re-holstered his weapon.

Said the woman still on her desk, "Sorry . . . but, I can't help it. We all have our little issues. Mice are mine. Where's Cujo?"

"I knew that psychotic little jerk had to be good for something other than giving McGarrett a new weapon to use against the world." smiled Danny

"We should keep him here tonight." said Kono, "The mice won't have a chance."

"Yeah, OK but he'd better not leave any presents on my desk." warned the blonde man.

"Oh, come on Danny." said Kono, "They're only tiny little mice, dead ones."

Chin was laughing when the blonde man reminded him, "Make sure you don't leave any shoes here, Kelly. I think you hurt the little buzzsaw's feelings when you didn't thank him for that last gift."

The little detective was referring to the time Chin had slipped off his shoes under his desk and Cujo had deposited a 'gift' into one of them. Chin put his shoes back on and rushed out the door, without having time to check what that lump in the toe of his shoe may be.

Emptying a very dead mouse out of one's shoe, (after wearing said shoe for most of the day), can be a little disconcerting.

Steve had just returned from his doctor's appointment. Cujo had been waiting by the door and McGarrett picked him up as soon as he walked into the office.

He walked up to them and set the still purring cat back onto the floor. Cujo immediately spied something on the other side of the room and sprinted off like a small, grey cheetah.

"OK, superman, what did the doc say?" asked Danny. SuperSEAL didn't look the least happy.

"Not cleared to work yet." said the tall man despondently.

"Only you." said Williams, beginning to waive his hands around for emphasis "Would bitch about a few days off. Most sane people, the operative word of course being 'sane'" said the detective making air quotes around the word, "would be very happy to have some down time."

McGarrett only gave him a death glare and stood with his arms over his chest. He'd seemed a little more like himself the last few days. Enough so that Danny could, once again, take up his rough brand of affection cloaked in scathing comments.

"Go home. I'll stop by with a pizza and some beer. There's a good game on tonight."

The tall man only nodded silently and turned to leave; his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Oh, and we need to leave your wolverine here for the rest of the week. He can finally get off his fat little ass and earn his keep. Mickey and his friends have decided to party here."

"Oh" smiled Steve, "That explains why Weston was on her desk."

Lori, furiously blushing said to the commander, "I was hoping you hadn't seen that."

"We all have our issues Lori. We'd just better hope the bad guys don't find out and decide to disguise themselves as Mickey and Mini."

If she could just drop through a hole in the floor right now, she'd do it.

...

"I don't think Cujo approves of your new squeeze Kalakaua" said Danny with an apprehensive smile as the cat sat growling at Tim Grayson.

Grayson smiled at his furry detractor staring at him from the middle of the smart table. The handsome man put a possessive arm around his new girl.

She smiled at her friend and turned to hush the cat. "Shush Cujo, he grows on you, honest." laughed the slim Hawaiian woman. She then turned back to the man who'd recently become her new love interest and said to him in a serious voice, "Just don't make any sudden moves, Tim."

Grayson laughed, "Maybe he smells my brother's dog on me?"

"Yeah, it's possible. Cujo really doesn't like dogs. A couple of weeks ago, someone smuggled a Chihuahua into the palace and Cujo almost ate him."

"He probably would have if Steve hadn't stopped him." laughed Chin

"Just an overgrown mouse." dismissed Danny. Not that he was defending 'El Gato de Satan" but, the detective didn't even consider Chihuahuas actual dogs . . . more like yapping rodents.

"So, what are you guy's working on?" asked Grayson cheerfully, ignoring the small package of attitude glaring at him from the table.

Danny looked up sharply then said, "Just trying to catch the bad guys." giving the most vague answer he could come up with.

"Oh" smiled Grayson, knowing that he'd just been shut out. "I hear you guys are really good at that."

"We do OK." said Danny, noncommittally

"I also hear you have a boss who can leap tall buildings in a single bound. Where is he?"

"One of his leaps didn't end all that well, he's recuperating at the moment."

"Well, I hope he gets better soon. I'd like to meet him. Kono can't say enough about you guys. I think her favorite term is 'kick-ass'." laughed Grayson

Kono only grinned hugely as she looked back at Chin and Danny, her arm still entwined with Grayson's.

"Well, that's what's going to happen to us if we don't get back to work." said the blonde detective. "The new governor's gonna do just that - kick our asses. You kids have a good time. Remember your curfew." he said teasingly as he gestured toward the door.

Kono gave him a mock glare then smiled, showing her deep dimples. She lead Tim toward the exit.

"You're right, cat." said Danny to the still growling animal when Kono and Grayson were out the door. "There's something about that guy."

Chin caught Danny's eye. He hoped Danny and Cujo weren't right with their intuition. Kono was his little cousin and he'd always been protective toward her. He'd have to do some ass-kicking himself if Grayson hurt her. That was just a given.

His normally smooth brow was creased as he and Danny went back to analyzing their current case.

...

McGarrett had finally been cleared to go back to work and none too soon. If he had to endure any more 'down time', he was going to find the doctor who had to sign off on his return to duty and dangle him off a building, tie him to the hood of a car, or throw him into a shark tank; whatever it took to get the OK to return to work.

The next few days were 'interesting' in a whole new way. They'd be sitting at their desks or standing around the smart table when a small, furry, blur would flash by, followed by another larger blur.

The body count was mounting. Every morning, they'd come in to find gifts all over the office. Everyone on the team had found at least one limp little body on their desks.

Chin no longer left any shoes under his desk and Lori was careful to close her office door when she left for the night. At least, that way, the dead would only be laid out in front of her door when she came in rather than on her desk. Kono had been kind enough to dispose of them for her. She'd be damned if she would ask any of the guys to take them away.

This morning was a little different from the norm; the governor himself had stopped by for a surprise visit. They'd been in the situation room discussing the best way to take down an arms dealer when the tall, dark skinned, man strode confidently into the office followed by Dave his aide and Rick his bodyguard.

"Governor. To what do we owe the pleasure?" asked McGarrett coming forward to shake the hand of the GQ dressed official.

Danny admired the man's style. Damn the Hawaiian heat. Here was a man who knew the importance of appropriate clothing.

As usual, Governor Denning wasted no words.

"We've gotten a threat you should know about. It came to me in the inner-office mail this morning. It seems someone doesn't like you guys."

The governor gestured toward his aide who produced a sheet of paper that had already been encased in a plastic sleeve.

McGarrett reached for it and Dave's hand accidently brushed against the commander's when he took the sheet. Chills raced down the young aide's spine at the too brief contact. _Damn, Lori was right. Up close, the man's even more gorgeous . . . those eyes, those lashes . . . that body . . . Oh my God, the tattoos!_

The governor cleared his throat and Dave blushed as he released the paper to the object of his dreams.

McGarrett only looked at him quizzically for a brief moment then began to read the note.

It read: 'CALL OFF FIVE-0 OR YOU'RE GOING TO BE PLANNING A MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR THEM'

It wasn't signed and it looked to have been printed using an ordinary ink jet printer on ordinary paper.

"I thought it best to bring this to you myself. I know Five-0's security has been compromised in the past. I don't want that to happen again. The only ones who know about this note are myself, my aide and, of course, the sender."

"Thank you governor. I appreciate your discretion." said Five-0's commander.

The imposing official asked, "Have you any idea who'd make a threat like this?"

Danny spoke first, "To be honest, Governor, it could be nearly anyone we've put away in the past year and a half."

"There are some pretty heavy hitters sitting in Halawa right now. I'm sure any of them would have no problem contacting someone on the outside to do their dirty work." said McGarrett.

"I'm sure the both of you are correct but, of course, we need to pin it down a little better than that. Have there been any further attempts on your lives since the one on the parkway a few weeks ago?"

"No sir. No further attempts." answered McGarrett, "We're still trying to pin down the identities of the shooters. The M.E.'s office has been working on it but, so far, nothing."

"Governor, would you like to have a seat? Can we get you some coffee?" asked McGarrett.

"If someone would show my aide where it is, that would be welcome. He knows how I take it."

The small group gathered in McGarrett's office to sit and discuss this latest threat. They'd gotten them before. It really wasn't anything new.

Chin showed Dave to the kitchen and then quickly returned, leaning a hip against the arm of the credenza on the side of the room.

Dave returned with the governor's coffee and they were deep in the middle of their discussion when a couple of things happened. The first one: a mouse scurried across the glass topped desk between the governor and the commander, the second one: a small grey cat came furiously skittering along behind it, finding traction on the papers under his paws and scattering them in every direction.

The mouse took that moment to reverse direction on the large desk and ran beneath the cat toward the direction from which it came. Cujo actually did a back flip, coming down to pounce after the frantic rodent.

McGarrett, automatically, picked his cup off the desktop but, before he could warn the governor to do the same, the panicky mouse leaped into the air, Lori Weston shrieked in fright and the unfortunate rodent came down to plop into the governor's cup with a splash.

The shriek actually stopped Cujo in mid-pounce and he sat down abruptly in the middle of McGarrett's desk to search for its source from among the people surrounding him.

Like the old joke about the fly in the soup, the hapless mouse was doing its best not to drown in the cup, treading coffee for all he was worth.

Kono rushed forward to grab the cup with the swimming creature and whisked it away. She figured the mouse had earned his chance to live and gingerly fished it out by its tail and holding the dripping creature, took it to release it out of doors.

Cujo had jumped off the desk to follow her meowing in frustration as his prize was carried off.

"Sorry" Kono mouthed silently to the unhappy cat.

"I apologize for the interruption, Governor." said McGarrett to the blinking official and barely missing a beat. "We've got a bit of a rodent problem at the moment."

"Yes, I can see that." said Governor Denning, sounding as though it were perfectly normal to have a 'Tom and Jerry' moment played out in front of one while in a meeting. "Your rodent control device is very . . . 'dramatic'."

McGarrett, with the help of his team, quickly gathered up the scattered paperwork. The governor's aide wiped down the surface of the desk with his own clean handkerchief and then set another cup of coffee in front of him.

"Now, commander, what do you propose to do about this threat?" asked the dark man.

McGarrett recognized this wasn't really a question but a directive.

"We'll investigate it of course. I'm not going to worry about it too much, governor. It's something that comes with the territory. Did anyone see who dropped it off?"

"I had Dave ask several people in the building but no one remembered seeing anyone or anything that would be of use."

"We'll be over to ask additional questions, I'm sure your aid . . ."

"David Matsui." quickly supplied the young man from the corner of the room.

Nodding in his direction, McGarrett continued, "I'm sure David was very thorough but, of course, we need to ask our own questions."

"Of course. We'll be expecting you." answered the official.

"Danny Williams and Lori Weston will be following up with your staff."

Danny and Lori both opened their mouths to say something but the look on their commander's face told them not to voice their thoughts about their assignment at the Governor's office.

"Well, watch yourselves in the meantime. I don't want to give anyone time off to attend any funerals. It would really screw with the budget."

The people assembled couldn't really tell if the governor was trying to make a joke or not. His expression didn't change. No one at Five-0 had ever seen him smile.

"I'll be going now." abruptly announced Denning; taking one sip from his new cup of coffee. He set it down to walk toward the door; Rick in front and Dave trailing behind him. He made a brief stop to reach down and stroke the little cat that still sat by the door as if expecting that coffee soaked mouse to knock and enter at any moment.

"Good job." he said to the cat. Cujo calmly accepted the attention, even seeming to sit a little straighter after the man and his small entourage walked out the door.

"Suck-up" said the blonde man, shaking his head, then moving quickly back to his own office when the yellow eyes caught his. No sense taking chances.

...

I wouldn't get my hopes up . . . either one of you." said Danny Williams to the two people who walked beside him.

"A guy can always dream." sighed David Matsui.

"Trust me, a dream it will remain." smiled the blonde detective. "McGarrett, besides being straight - is spoken for."

Lori, walking on the other side of the detective asked, "Cath, right?"

"Yup, and I'm pretty sure she'd be able to kick anyone's ass who tried to poach her man." smiled Danny

Lori and Dave only looked at each other resignedly as they walked toward the governor's office.

...

As they'd always done in the past, the nightmares, eventually, lessened to only one a week or so.

Danny hadn't told anyone about his friend's breakdown that day. He didn't know what he'd have done if Steve hadn't seemed to improve. The stubborn man was still refusing to seek any help for them, saying he'd been through it all before and it would resolve itself. It would just take a while.

While Danny didn't doubt Steve's statement, he still wished his partner would talk to a professional about it. Steve was usually a good judge of how far he could push himself but, right now, his judgment about his limits seemed to be almost non-existent.

Perhaps talking to Danny _had_ helped, though the detective certainly didn't feel like he had any answers for his distressed friend. Anyway, Steve did seem to be a bit better. He'd managed to put on a couple of pounds and the dark shadows under his eyes had almost disappeared. He was still more 'sinewy' than muscular but seemed healthy enough. Of course, 'healthy' had a whole different measuring stick in McGarrett world.

On her way to somewhere else, Cath had managed to stop by for a brief two-day visit. Steve was always more relaxed after spending time with his gorgeous raven-haired lieutenant.

Things progressed in general. Bad guys were caught. The governor was happy, (probably due to nothing much having been blown up in the last month or so). The SEAL didn't seem to have the energy for it.

One morning though, all life at Five-0 seemed to come to a halt.

Steve took a call on his cell, ducking back into his office and closing the door behind him. Before the door was completely shut, Danny had heard him say 'yes sir' in that voice he used for 'official' communication with the military.

This couldn't be good. Kono, Chin and Danny looked at each other apprehensively. Lori didn't ask but she could guess what the phone call was about.

After several more minutes, they saw Steve end the call and open his door. He walked up to his team who were still standing around the smart table.

"Well, guys, I'll be gone for awhile. Danny, you've got the helm 'till I get back."

"Steve?" said Lori, her eyes actually asking the question.

Eyes hooded, the commander only stared back at her silently. The others knew better than to even ask. It had happened before and, if he made it back in one piece, would probably happen again.

The blonde man ran his hand through his hair. Was his partner even up to this considering his too recent revelations? No one had kidded themselves into thinking their boss and friend wouldn't, eventually, be called up again. It had happened a couple of times in the past year and a half since Five-0 had come into being.

Once, Steve had been gone for only a couple of days; returning with a slight limp and one arm in a sling.

The next time, he'd been gone for over a month. When he returned from that one, he had no obvious injuries but managed to look like roadkill for several days afterward.

Danny always worried for the safety of everyone on his team but, his crazy-ass, ninja freak friend who'd lately seemed hellbent on his own destruction; even more so.

This wasn't good. This wasn't even in the same solar system as good.

"You want me to drop you off at Hickham?" asked Danny, knowing he could offer nothing more.

"No, but thanks Danny. They're picking me up in an hour. I've got to get home. Take care of Cujo. Don't let him bite anyone important like the fucking Governor of fucking Hawaii' as someone had warned me he may someday."

"Not if the governor behaves himself and doesn't decide we should appear on his next campaign poster. If he wants that, well then, he's fair game for El Gato de Satan." smiled Danny.

"Told you before D, it's very sexy when you speak Spanish." laughed McGarrett.

Everyone smiled at that but, it didn't hide their fear. This was just too soon.

"Take care guys." said McGarrett as he walked quickly toward the exit.

"Bye Boss." said Kono, her dark eyes starting to water though she was trying to hide it.

"Malama pono." said Chin, his face its usual calm mask.

Lori rushed forward to hug him. He looked as surprised as that day in Korea when she'd done the same thing before he'd gotten on the old chopper. He patted her awkwardly and then turned to walk out the door, giving Cujo one last ear scratch and whispering something to him before he walked out.

One last waive from the other side of the heavy glass and he was gone.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**Thank you so very much for your reviews, alerts and favorites. I would very much like to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Without first reading the reviews for the previous chapter, can you guess what the issue and the fix was?**


	6. The Jersey Op

Cujo II - Chapter Six

**Here's some of the promised whump. Thank you for your reviews and comments. I know I'm a cheap date but I can't tell you how happy they make me. Thank you also for the favorites and alerts, you are all so very kind.**

**Disclaimer: I'd like to say that I don't care that I don't get paid for this and don't care that I am not the owner of the show or its characters but . . . I'd be lying.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

The Jersey Op

Even with a score card, it was sometimes hard to tell who were friends and who were enemies.

The loyalists were, supposedly, their allies but the dictator who ran the impoverished little country was as evil as they come; infamous for victimizing his own countrymen.

When the rebel leader had been captured by his own men as he met with a loyalist contact, he supposedly had intel that would be worth blood; American blood. Their job was to rescue him while shedding as little of it as possible. Why they were involved at all was a mystery to him but, he had to trust his government, his team, himself.

Doubt wasn't a good feeling but, with ops like this for assholes like this, it was getting more difficult for him to reconcile with his own moral code. Doubt made things so much more complicated.

Lately, he'd been thinking about the way he'd spent nearly all of his adult life.

He'd been trained to kill in the most efficient way possible. He was good at what he did; superior in fact. It seemed the only thing that differentiated him from the fer de lance that had almost killed him in that warehouse was that killing is a choice; not an instinct.

Maybe he wasn't even sure about that anymore. Maybe it _had_ become instinct. It was what he knew, what he trained for . . . what he was good at.

Seeing the world from a different perspective; a permanent home instead of just a place to lay his head had changed him. People he cared about who cared about him in return had changed him.

He'd never before doubted his life choices. Maybe he was a different kind of warrior now? It was confusing. It caused doubt. Right now, in this place, at this time, doubt could get him killed.

It was hot here in the rainforest. There was no breeze and the humidity was smothering. The sweat rolled down his back as he crouched behind the tall smooth-barked tree. He froze, breathing quietly and shallowly as the truck pulled to a stop at another large tree that had 'fallen' across the road. It sat with its engine idling for several minutes; occupants obviously suspicious as no one exited the camouflage painted vehicle.

Just as McGarrett had decided to rush the truck, the passenger door opened and two men got out, holding Russian made assault rifles at the ready. They looked around nervously, peering into the thick foliage on either side of the rutted road.

Steve signaled for his men to hold back, waiting for just the right moment to launch the attack when all hell seemed to break loose in the back of the truck.

There were shouts and movements that made the vehicle rock back and forth like a visual punch-line in a bad comedy. A single shot rang out as the two rebels turned toward the canvas covered back end. Steve signaled to his team to move in.

The first two who'd gotten out of the cab were cut down immediately as the SEALs burst from cover to rush the truck, McGarrett in the lead.

There were several more men in the back of the vehicle and behind it. Shots were traded for what seemed an hour but in reality was only a couple of minutes.

Their intel had been fucked up. There wasn't supposed to be more than three or four men guarding the rebel leader who'd decided money was more important than 'the cause' and, as a result, was probably on his way to a very public execution - one designed to intimidate any and all who witnessed it.

The gunfire stopped. There was total silence. The jungle creatures had ceased their chirping and calling. Only the haze of the drifting smoke from expended ammunition moved as it rose slowly upward toward the thick green canopy.

In only a few moments, a still life had been created; the jungle its canvas, blood its paint.

They cautiously moved toward the bullet riddled truck. Suddenly, with a sound so loud it seemed like silence, a huge fireball enveloped the vehicle. The truck disintegrated into chunks of flying metal. Something hit him in the chest with enough force to knock him several feet backward to collide with a stout tree. He could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears and feel nothing but the fire in his chest.

...

Kono put the last of the paper into the printer and returned to her desk to hit 'print'. It was time to call it quits for that part of the day reserved for writing reports.

She was about to shoo Cujo out of her 'in' basket where he'd been napping when the little cat suddenly sat upright and meowed at her as though disturbed by something. He'd been sound asleep only moments before when she'd walked away from her desk. She couldn't imagine what had happened to bother him so much in such a short period of time.

Short, plaintive, mews were issued from the little animal. He looked up at her with an almost pleading expression. She could tell he was very distressed about something.

"You hungry, popoki?" she asked, knowing he'd only eaten about an hour ago. "What's the matter?" She picked him up and stroked him, holding him close to her. This usually made him purr like crazy but, this time it didn't stop the fearful mewing. This was odd. She wondered if he was sick. Maybe he'd eaten one lizard tail too many.

Danny came into her office to see what the cries were about. Not that he cared one way or another if the little monster was upset but, it was an odd kind of meowing. He hadn't heard it before. It was a little disquieting.

The haoli hoped it didn't mean anything. He'd heard stories of dogs, miles away from their masters, howl when something bad had happened to the people to whom they were attached. He knew it had to be bullshit but . . .

...

He awoke in a tangled heap on the damp, debris covered ground. He couldn't seem to get a breath; couldn't see anything through the blur of whatever was running into his eyes. He struggled to sit up but couldn't. He didn't feel any pain but knew it was probably shock that kept it away for the moment.

He remembered moving toward the truck when it seemed to vaporize in front of him. He had to find out how his men were. He hoped they were far enough away to keep from becoming casualties when the truck went up.

He managed to roll over onto his stomach; reaching out to feel for his gun but finding only the damp, spongy soil of the forest floor. His ears were still ringing and he couldn't hear anything other than his own rasping breaths. Great, can't see, can't hear, no gun . . . _What next?_ was his thought as it got even darker, quieter.

...

"What's the matter with Cujo?" asked Lori who'd now joined the others in Kono's office. The cat still sat on her desk, meowing piteously and looking at the gathered people as though he expected them to help him with something. His eyes didn't seem to be focused as they normally would. It was like he was looking through them, rather than at them.

"I don't know." said Kono worriedly, "He just started making those weird meows a couple of minutes ago. I tried petting him and offered him treats but, he's not interested."

"Maybe he's sick?" asked Chin. The Hawaiian detective was also standing in the small group staring at the distressed animal.

"Maybe." said Kono. She couldn't think of anything else it might be.

Danny just stared quietly at the cat. No smart-assed remarks. No complaints about the noise. Something told him this wasn't anything to do with the 'here' but, maybe with the 'now'. He hoped the cat was only having some sort of feline psychotic break.

After another minute of the pitiful sounds, the cat seemed to shake himself and looked at the people around him as though he were wondering why they were all staring at him. With a final chirp, he jumped off Kono's desk and walked out the door as though nothing had ever happened.

...

He felt hands on him. He tried to fight them but, they pinned his arms while shouting something he couldn't quite make out. He struggled mightily then, the pain broke over him like a tsunami, stealing what was left of his breath and tumbling him again into darkness.

When he awoke this time there was something cool on his forehead. He cried out. There was a fiery agony and heavy pressure on his chest, like he was being run through with a hot poker and a big hand was pressing him into the ground. He could feel the grating of the broken ends of ribs as they shifted. His back was nearly as painful.

"Take it easy Commander. We have to get you ready to carry to the clearing to meet the helo. Hang in there, help will be here in few minutes." The words took longer than they should have to register meaning.

The voice was one he recognized. _Ramirez?_ He pried open his eyes and looked up to see the smooth brown face of the medic.

"Wha' ha'pnd?" he managed to croak out. It really hurt to breathe. He couldn't take a large enough breath to expel a complete sentence. It hurt too much to even try. Luckily, the medic understood.

"H'how . . . ba'ad?"

"Just lie still. Your chest isn't in such good shape right now. Something smacked you really hard and managed to break a few ribs and maybe crack your sternum. I wouldn't be surprised if you also have a back injury but your legs don't seem to be affected. You also caught a few pieces of shrapnel here and there but, that part's only minor."

McGarrett knew there was some sort of irony in there somewhere about 'only' having a few pieces of sharp edged metal that were once part of a truck imbed themselves into his body. The thought was just a little too sophisticated for him right now and as quickly as it formed, his mind let it go. He could hear the wet rasping sound of his own breathing and there was the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

"Stay still and let us do the work. You've got a tube in your chest that fixed a collapsed lung. You'll be OK if you don't move around. You may have a concussion so I can't give you anything much for pain. As soon as we get you back to base, the doctors will give you the good stuff."

"Others?" he rasped.

"You're the only one who was seriously injured, Sir. Everyone else got off with just scratches. Khoury may have a concussion too. He flew nearly as far as you did but, didn't have a big-ass piece of the truck, probably an axel, hit him in the chest."

He felt the cloth on his forehead being removed and then replaced once again after it had been soaked with cool water and then wrung out. There was someone else kneeling over him but, he couldn't make them out.

"Target?" he croaked out, his vision, once again, threatening to desert him.

"Hamburger" was the one word answer from whoever it was that had replaced the compress on his forehead.

"'sa trap" he wheezed out.

"Yeah, looks like it. That guy was only the bait." said Ramirez "There's not even large enough pieces to make an ID. If it wasn't him, it's someone else's problem now. You're going home commander."

"Ho . . . home's good." he managed to murmur before the dark claimed him again.

...

He woke once in the chopper, feeling the vibration of its engine as it carried them away from the totally fucked-up result of the mission. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aware there were people trying to help him, hearing their voices but not understanding their words.

The vibration felt nice. It felt almost like a cat purring beside him.

Next time he remembered waking was in the bed at Quantico. His injuries, though serious, weren't going to kill him, at least that's what he was told. The pain though, just might.

He couldn't move without feeling that grinding and scraping in his chest. He knew he had several broken ribs. They told him later he also had several that were cracked but not broken all the way through. The splintered end of one of the broken ones had nicked the lining of his lung. It was a small tear but, enough to let air into the plural space and collapse a lung. The quick, efficient care he'd received in the field had allowed it to re-inflate even before they'd left the rainforest.

He owed his team for dragging his ass out of there. When he could hold a thought in his head longer than a few seconds, he wanted to thank them.

By the time his mind cleared and he was sufficiently awake, they'd already scattered to the four winds. Only Khoury had remained behind a couple of days so the doctors could make sure his brains hadn't been permanently scrambled when the concussive force of the exploding truck bounced him off a tree trunk.

McGarrett didn't even get to talk to him as the pain meds he as on at the time prevented any intelligible speech. It was OK though, every man on his team knew they'd protect each other no matter what. No one had to say anything. It would have been nice though.

The next two weeks passed slowly. He'd been debriefed in his hospital room. Through other sources, he'd learned the whole op had been a set-up. If the rebels could blame the U.S. for getting one of their higher-ups killed, it would prove to the rest that co-operating with them was a bad deal. Unfortunately, they'd all been pawns in the game. It sucked. Steve was just glad that only one of the team to be seriously hurt was himself.

...

Danny's cell rang. He didn't recognize the number of the caller, though the area code was one he did know. It was from the Norfolk area. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not. It could be his partner or someone calling _about_ his partner. He hesitated only a moment before answering.

"Williams" he said

"Hey, D" said a familiar voice.

Danny's face creased into a smile of relief and he felt the sudden tension leave his body.

"Hey, Steven. You've been gone long enough; how you doing? Still in one piece? You'd better be, we . . . well, your wolverine missed you."

"Still have all the important parts attached, yes." chuckled the tired sounding voice on the other end.

"That can't possibly mean your head, which doesn't seem important enough to use as often as you should but, since you're speaking to me, I assume it's still on your neck." There was no way Danny was going to actually tell his partner how relieved he was to hear from him.

Steve just huffed his amusement. It was good to take up where they'd left off. He'd missed the familiar sarcasm. He didn't realize how much until he heard the Jersey-boy's smart-assed assessment of his intellect.

"Danny, can you pick me me up at Hickham tomorrow morning? I should be in at 0900."

"Can't you just say nine AM? . . . nevermind. Of course, Steven. I'll be there with bells on. Well, at least, you're wolverine has the bells."

"You're not going to try to bring him to the base, are you?" asked McGarrett in alarm.

"What! No! Are you nuts? No, scratch that, I already know the answer. Of course I'm not bringing your barracuda, I still need my blood to be _inside_ my body."

Williams heard his partner laugh then some muffled coughing as the receiver was moved away. Danny frowned as he waited for Steve to come back on the line.

"You OK?" he asked, knowing the answer he'd get before the words even left his mouth.

"I'm good."

"Yeah, sure."

"So, I'll see you at the field then." said McGarrett quickly before his partner could ask any details or launch into a rant.

"Yeah, of course, nine o'clock. I'll be there."

"Oh, Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you bring my truck instead of the Camaro?"

"What? Why?"

"Sorry, gotta go, say hi to the gang for me . . . Cujo included."

With that, there was a click on the other end and the line went dead.

"Damned ninja-freak. What _now_?" sighed Danny

...

He parked the Silverado and walked across the lot to the guarded gate, wondering just what condition he'd find his partner in. The fact that he wanted Danny to bring the truck instead of the Camaro couldn't auger anything good.

Danny knew the truck was easier to get in and out of for his tall friend. He liked to call Steve a giant, though he knew that nearly six-two wasn't necessarily that tall. It was just that it's taller than five-five.

He waited on the tarmac as the bay doors of the huge cargo plane opened and out limped a lone figure carrying, (make that dragging), a duffle. Steve waived at him, a large smile on a face that was significantly thinner than when he'd said goodbye only four weeks earlier.

Danny shook his head at his worn looking partner as he grinned back, coming forward to grab the duffle as his partner stepped off the ramp and onto the cherished ground of Hawaii. At least Steve cherished it. Danny wasn't quite there yet.

Steve frowned but didn't bother to protest when his partner snatched up the bag. They strode wordlessly beside each other toward the gate. Danny stole a couple of sideways glances at his friend who carried himself carefully and walked much slower than his usual near trot.

They exited the facility and walked toward the dark blue Silverado. Danny slung the duffle into the back and watched as Steve carefully climbed into the passenger side, wincing slightly as he had to fold his body.

_OK, now I know something's wrong,_ he thought with a frown. _Super SEAL didn't even demand to drive . . . and this is his truck; not even my Camaro!_

The detective started the engine and waited until they were actually on the highway before asking the question.

"OK Steven, what are the damages this time? I won't even bother to ask you how you acquired them, since I know it's 'classified'." he said as he momentarily took both hands off the wheel to make air quotes around one of his least favorite words, (along with 'divorce' and 'audit').

Steve sighed and without even attempting to be evasive began the rundown: "Some broken ribs, several cracked, collapsed lung; now re-inflated, a damaged disk in my lower back, cuts, bruises . . . maybe a uhh mild concussion."

"Mild, huh?"

"Yup."

"Idiot."

...

Danny delivered Steve to the SEAL's own house, thinking it unusual the man didn't even request they first stop at HQ.

_He must really be thrashed this time if isn't going to be all stupid and stoic_, thought his partner as they pulled into the driveway.

Steve carefully exited the truck and hobbled, (yes, hobbled), toward the front door. He'd just taken his keys out of his pocket when the door opened and there stood Kono Kalakaua, a huge smile on her face and a bundle of grey fur in her arms.

The cat let out a loud squawk as she hugged her boss hello and Cujo was caught between them. Behind her, Chin's normally stoic face held a broad smile as Steve grinned back at him.

"Welcome back boss" said Chin as he came forward to carefully place his hand on Steve's shoulder after noting the way his friend carried himself.

"Good to be back. You have no idea!" smiled the tall man, "Hey buddy." he said softly as the cat was handed to him, its purring loud enough to sound like an electric lawnmower. Cujo began licking his neck and Steve laughed as the rough tongue threatened to remove a layer of his skin.

As in the past, the coming home celebration included food and drink. Kamekona, who hadn't yet arrived, promised to bring several of his shrimp dishes, (not even the experimental ones), and Kono provided Steve's favorite desert - her aunt's home made haupia. The balance of the food was provided by Chin who'd stopped at one of his boss's favorite Honolulu restaurants; lots of rice and veggies which, even Danny admitted were pretty tasty.

Soon, beer was being distributed but Danny slapped his partner's hand away as he reached toward a Longboard.

"Hey!" said the startled man in annoyance.

"Uh, uh, Steven. Not until you produce your doctor's written permission to drink alcohol with whatever meds you're on."

"Danny!" argued Steve, "I've been waiting for a month to drink a beer!"

"Yeah, well until you get an official OK to imbibe, you're on the temperance wagon Ms. Nation."

"Why do I feel like I'm sixteen and I've violated curfew or something?" frowned the tall man at his partner.

"From your long, sad, list of boo-boos, SuperSEAL, I know they've prescribed something heavy-duty. Your pupils are almost invisible. How are you even awake right now?"

"It's not that bad." protested the battered man, still trying to argue his case. "The doctors dosed me up before I could get on the plane. It's a long trip."

"I wasn't born yesterday, Steven. If I was on narco detail, I'd have to question you to find out who your supplier is. C'mon, cough 'em up." said Danny holding his hand out toward Steve who now glared at him in annoyance.

"Where are what?" asked the tall man, trying to give Danny his most innocent 'I'm just a baby duck' face which, obviously, wasn't working for him at the moment. Danny was so smug when he was right. If his perceptive but annoying partner knew just how many meds the SEAL had been prescribed, well . . . he'd never get to taste that Longboard.

"Boss?" said both cousins at once, coming forward to join in the inquisition.

McGarrett rolled his eyes and produced a vial of pills from one of his many pockets. Danny took it, read the label, and shaking his head in wordless disapproval, held out his hand again palm up.

McGarrett sighed and produced another bottle from another pocket. His partner/keeper took this one, read the label and then, once again, held out his hand, this time adding a motion with his fingers that meant 'gimme'.

This time, McGarrett huffed in frustration. _Dammit._

Danny knew from experience, Steve's and his own, there would be at least a heavy duty painkiller, one or two antibiotics and maybe a muscle relaxant or something similar. All of which, shouldn't be mixed with alcohol.

The tall man produced two more vials of pills from two more pockets in his camouflage cargos and handed them to his partner.

Just then, the front door opened and in came their shave ice/shrimp truck mogul Kamekona carrying a large cardboard box of food containers. "Whoa!" said the big man in admiration as he saw McGarrett hand over the last of the pill bottles, "You hit the drug lotto, Brah!"

His 5-0 family grinned as Steve smiled tightly at their large friend then carefully lowered himself into a chair; his expression one of defeat. He really, really wanted that Longboard.

...

By the next week, things had died down to a crawl and the three able-bodied members of the task force had even caught up on all of their paperwork. There were no current or pending cases.

Now was the time they'd usually start going through HPD's cold cases. Five-0 had managed to solve several, thanks in part to their incredibly gifted M.E. Max Bergman and the advances in forensic science.

Over the past week, McGarrett spent a few hours at HQ whenever he could talk one of his team into picking him up and bringing him to the office. He tried to lighten up on the meds that prevented him from getting behind the wheel or, as the label warned, 'Operating Heavy Machinery' but unfortunately, after a few hours without a dose, only a slight cough could send him into a world of pain. For the moment, it just wasn't worth it.

Danny had actually begun to enjoy Steve's slowed down state. A drugged McGarrett was kinda fun. The restless energy was dampened and his partner was almost docile.

He was far easier to talk into things he'd normally not be enthusiastic about, like ordering pizza without a speck of pineapple on it. He was also not quite as guarded and tight lipped as he normally was and had provided some very entertaining stories of growing up on the island.

Danny thought, _Steve must have driven his parents absolutely nuts,_ as he chuckled at Steve's rarely revealed exploits - one of them involving a coconut, a length of pipe and fireworks.

_It's a wonder the man managed to reach adulthood with all of his appendages,_ thought Chin as he laughed at Steve's rarely revealed childhood exploits. Chin remembered his old partner John McGarrett, Steve's dad, tell him once that his kid was on a campaign to kill himself with his recklessness or drive his old man into an early grave. It was easy to understand why Steve wasn't more forthcoming about his youthful adventures.

Cujo had become his constant shadow, seeming to take up guard duty wherever Steve had settled. The little cat would perch watchfully on the back or arm of a chair or on a tall cabinet; wherever he would have a clear field of vision and never more than a short distance from his chosen human. He'd even growl whenever anyone he wasn't familiar with came too close to his friend. It had necessitated the little feline being locked in an extra office during the visits of certain people of whom he didn't approve.

Kono even got to witness her boss's well-hidden softer side as he talked to the cat and dangled strings and toys for Cujo to play with; laughing delightedly when the little cat pounced and missed or tumbled in his zeal to capture his 'prey'. Even though Cujo was rapidly reaching feline 'adulthood', he was as playful as the day he'd been adopted by his Five-0 family, (and as fierce).

As the holidays approached, McGarrett seemed to grow more subdued. Danny knew the holidays would probably be extra hard for his friend this year without the distraction of work. Other than his Five-0 ohana, he had no family other than Mary who'd made a life of her own on the mainland.

Steve didn't think it safe for her to be on the island anyway with Wo Fat still on the loose. Other than a phone call every few days, there'd be no 'family time' with his sister this Christmas.

Cath was, once again, stationed on the carrier that was now somewhere on the other side of the world. Steve wouldn't be able to see her until sometime after the new year.

The Governor had declared if Steve came back to work too soon and jeopardized the efficiency of the team or delayed his full recovery, the whole lot of them would be suspended until their stubborn commander was judged fit to return to duty by the governor's personal physician.

Danny thought it was only a bluff on Denning's part but, the man had proven tough in his expectations for the behavior of Hawaii's elite task force. They'd somehow become poster children for his platform of 'duty and integrity'. They were on a pretty short leash at the moment.

The decree _was_ probably the best way to handle the situation; though Danny would never admit it to his partner. The best way to keep the entirely too driven and restless man under control was the threat the consequences of his behavior would affect the other members of his team.

After the Governor Jameson thing, Steve would rather die than think he'd been responsible for any of his team getting into trouble. He'd already done that to them once. The man carried guilt like a second skin.

With nothing much to do that HPD couldn't handle, Danny, who'd been temporarily in command since Steve had been called up, decided now was the time to take a few days off. Steve had made the job look easy . . . it wasn't.

The cousins had volunteered weeks ago to be on call during the holidays. He was going to take them up on it.

Their family was local and they'd, no doubt, have ample opportunity to join their relatives for any festivities. It was a large, extended, family and if they missed one celebration, there would be another to attend at another aunt's, uncles, cousins or whoever's.

Danny sat in his office, chewing on the end of his pen and staring off into space. _Yup, this was the solution._

He picked up the phone and dialed the governor.

...

Steve sighed as he hit 'enter' on his keyboard. His Christmas shopping was all but done. Thank God he could do it all online. He didn't actually have to fight the crowds at any of those malls he hated to go to, even in the off season.

Cath had dragged him to one when he was here last. Granted, it had been worth it at the time. She'd wanted to go lingerie shopping at Victoria's Secret. Actually, he'd had quite an interesting experience though he wondered why they'd pay so much for something that probably wouldn't be worn for longer than ten minutes max.

He was till too easily fatigued to go 'mall crawling' anyway. Though most of the pain was now gone and he'd stopped taking the heavy duty stuff, his chest still ached when he moved the wrong way or inhaled too deeply. The cuts and bruises had long since healed and his back had ceased to be an issue. His exercise routine still wasn't up to his usual level of intensity. He still had to be careful not to reinjure that which had only recently healed.

It was mostly boredom and lack of activity that seemed to weigh on him. Since leaving the island at fifteen, this was the second Christmas he was to spend at 'home'.

Last year, he'd had the distraction of Danny and Grace and the rest of his ohana. This year, there was no such distraction. Danny wouldn't even see his daughter this Christmas as Rachel and Stan had taken her to England for a month to stay with her maternal grandparents.

Claiming he didn't even want to be here on this 'pineapple coated pile of melted rock' without his daughter. He'd made arrangements to visit his family in New Jersey for the next several days.

Steve certainly couldn't fault him for that. Chin and Kono had, of course, invited him along to their family gatherings but, seeing the wonderful closeness of family on this island that had once been the home of his own, now destroyed, family . . . well, it only seemed to depress him.

It looked like he and Cujo were going to spend the holiday together. Catherine was still half a world away and couldn't get leave to come home or even meet him somewhere. He really missed her and not just physically, though, he couldn't ignore that part of it either.

At that moment in his human's sober reflections, Cujo decided to jump onto the keyboard.

"Hey! I've already done my ordering. Oh, shit!"

He looked up at the screen and realized his cat had just increased the quantity of his purchase of Cath's Christmas gift - chocolates wrapped in foil with very very suggestive phrases printed on each one - from a quantity of 1 to 1,000. His order total was now entered and confirmed as fifty-thousand dollars plus tax. Someone was going to think he was either opening a chain of sex boutiques or he was going to be a very, very, busy guy over the holidays.

He groaned as he reached for the phone to undo the cat's 'butt dial' of an order. He just knew he'd be the subject of someone's hilarious customer service Christmas story.

_Damned cat!_

_..._

It didn't take a lot to get Steve to agree to travel to New Jersey to stay for a week. Well, OK, it did take a lot. Danny had, finally, gotten to him with a dramatic appeal about not having Gracie this year and how a nearly twelve hour plane trip to Newark alone without his daughter was suicidally depressing. Finally, his reluctant partner had given in, probably just to shut him up. Well, whatever works . . .

Then, came the mad scramble to find warm enough clothing for a 20 degree, (Fahrenheit), visit from someone who usually spent most of his downtime half-naked and barefoot.

Danny's well-plead case about keeping Steve from coming back to work too soon because there'd be no one to make sure he didn't, had the governor himself popping for the plane ticket . Denning said he'd put it down in his expenses as 'preventative medicine'.

_Damn I'm good,_ thought Detective Daniel Williams after hanging up with Governor Denning.

...

"D, calm down! Of course I have a warm jacket and boots and gloves. I have all that stuff."

"No, Steven. It can't look like we're _invading_ New Jersey, just visiting it. If you walk up to my family in military-issue cold weather gear, looking like you're about to launch an op, they're not going to let it go. Believe me, I know them! You're going to be too tempting a target - especially for Angela. She's evil. She won't be able to resist."

"Angela? Is she the one who took down that whole gang of drug dealers almost single-handedly?"

"The one and only. My baby sister." said Danny proudly.

"Very impressive. Does she look anything like you? I hope not! For a guy, you're OK looking but you'd make one very ugly chick!" laughed Steve.

Danny didn't quite know how to reply to that. He only snorted and continued, "I'll have you know that my sister is a very, very attractive woman."

"Yeah? What does she look like?" asked McGarrett, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

"Down, boy." laughed Danny. "She doesn't play for our team . . . if you know what I mean." The blonde man waited to see if his brilliant but sometimes incredibly dense partner would pick up on his meaning.

McGarrett looked confused for a moment; his brows knit in their characteristic way. Danny hadn't yet named this face. He'd been considering 'puzzled puppy face' as it almost looked as though his partner should be tilting his head as dogs do when trying to figure something out.

"Oh." said McGarrett as the meaning of Danny's description of his sister finally dawned on him, "Was worth a shot" he shrugged and smiled.

"Yeah, shot is what you'd probably get if you tried to put the McGarrett moves on her."

"McGarrett moves?" said the tall man indignantly. "There are no 'moves' as you so christened them."

"Oh, come on Steven. When you give 'em that 'aw shucks' smile and bat those girlishly long, Angelina eyelashes at them, you know damned well how it works."

"You've been watching?" asked the tall man, a suspicious flush coming over his pale face. "And now, you've even named my eyelashes? Dude, that's just creepy."

The pilot announced their expected arrival time and the current temperature on the ground at their destination. The flight attendant reminded them to lock their trays and put their seats in an upright position.

McGarrett already shivered at the mention of the thirty degree daytime temperature. Danny had ordered him an LandsEnd cold weather parka and had it Fedexed to him as his Christmas gift. He would, surely, be grateful for it. The coat was even in an acceptable color; navy blue. Steve had thanked him awkwardly. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such a nice, if unexpected, gift.

After his partner's awkward, stumbling, thank-you; Danny had told him to just shut-up then walked away mumbling something about his partner's 'mammal to mammal' communication deficiencies.

The big plane's tires thumped down on the runway and they disembarked to walk to baggage claim.

The blonde man had talked his parents and Angela out of picking them up at the airport. It was threatening snow and he told them he didn't want them out driving in a blizzard, (blizzard was an exaggeration, of course), and he also didn't want to frighten Steve into getting on the next plane home after being beseiged by his overly demonstrative family. He'd made it a joke to them but, tough as his partner is; a man used to all manner of combat, explosions and dire situations; getting both barrels of Williamses at once could intimidate the most fearless of men.

They fought their way through the crowded airport to the rental counter. Only the governor's pull had been able to get them the last-minute ticket and a reservation for a holiday auto rental.

They'd actually made out pretty well. Their vehicle was a fully-loaded Lincoln town car, (at compact pricing, mind you), and though Danny didn't usually like driving such a bus, having this much Detroit iron between himself and the elements was welcome.

"OK, D. Give me the rundown again." said McGarrett as they pulled out of the rental lot.

"Steven, I told you, this is not an 'op', relax!"

"One more time, D."

"OK" sighed his partner. "Mom - Stella or Ma. Don't dare call her Mrs. Williams or you'll be sorry. Dad - Augie; he's cool. Sisters: Angela; evil, long dark hair, cop. Anna Marie; pregnant, blonde, way too perky, always seems to be wired. McGarrett raised his eyebrows. Danny saying someone had too much energy, well . . . that was just scary.

The blonde man continued: "Brothers: Anthony; dark hair, tall as you are, smart ass - also as you are. Andrew: the youngest, curly brown hair, way too many kids."

"How many is too many?".

"I think he's got six now; two sets of twins and the odd two."

"Whoa." said McGarrett sounding almost awed.

"Oh, and sorry to tell you at the last minute, babe; these people all have their own possies; you know, husbands, wives, girlfriends, plus the usual aunts and uncles and whatever."

"Danny! You said only your parents and your brothers and sisters would be there!"

"Don't hyper-ventilate. Breathe, Steven. It won't be that bad."

His partner only slumped into his bulky jacket. _What have I gotten myself into?_

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**Please take a moment to review if you'd be so kind. I'm recovering from the mega-crud and it would be much better than chicken soup.**


	7. Moonlight on Snow

Cujo II - Chapter 7

**Here's another. Not much Cujo in it but that will be fixed in the next update. Hope you like it. Would love to hear any comments - good or bad.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the show or the characters and make no money from this obsession that makes me leave housework undone.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Moonlight on Snow

"You're scorekeeper, partner!" yelled Danny across the frozen expanse of soil.

_These people are fucking nuts_, thought Steve McGarrett as he smiled and waived back at his friend then assumed his position on the rickety wooden 'scorekeeper's' chair that had been dragged out onto the sidelines.

He felt ridiculous in the heavy parka with the hood covering his head. He thought he looked like Kenny in that animated TV show 'Southpark'. No one else on the field seemed as heavily bundled up against the frigid temperature.

The score wobbled back and forth between Danny's team and his brother's. Everyone was having a great time and if someone 'forgot' this was only a touch-football game and _touched_ a little too hard, it was all in good fun.

The temperature seemed to drop further as the game wore on. In spite of the gloves he wore, Steve could barely feel his fingers. He'd long since realized he could no longer feel his toes. The last play brought Danny down with a thud on the frozen ground right in front of him as Anthony, once again, 'touched' his brother with excess zeal.

Danny pushed the larger man off him, growling "Get off me you damned gorilla!"

Anthony laughed and standing, reached down to give his brother a hand. Danny glanced at Steve and realized his partner looked almost blue with cold and was shivering so hard, he was about to vibrate himself off the chair.

"Babe! Why didn't you say something?" said the compact blonde man as he stood over his shivering friend. "You're freezin' your ass off and would rather turn into a SEAL-cicle instead of saying, Hey, idiots! It's time for me to go get warm?"

Danny wound up for one of his usual rants but, thinking the better of it, he just grabbed Steve's gloved hands and pulled him up from the chair, yelling over his shoulder to the rest of them, "Gotta go thaw out Super SEAL, he's not from Jersey." as explanation.

Everyone just nodded and waived, saying their goodbyes to Danny and to the newest member of their family.

"See ya later!"

"Yeah, at the rematch!"

"Get warm, Steve!"

"I know we're nuts. Won't hold it against you!"

He smiled and waived back at them. He didn't attempt to reply. He was just trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He allowed Danny to guide him across the side yard and back to the house.

Stella had been watching the match from the kitchen window. She was used to patching up the skinned knees, bloody noses and whatnot that were the inevitable result of the clan's boisterous and sometimes too hotly contested matches. The family proudly asserted that no one in the long, bloody, history of the annual football game, ever had to be hauled away in an ambulance. She hoped the record wouldn't be broken today as she saw her eldest and smallest child lead a heavily bundled taller person toward her back door.

Meeting them with her arms crossed over her apron and a questioning look, she said, "Who's hurt now?"

She looked at the bundled figure and saw her son's partner trying to grin at her through what could be a grimace of pain.

"Daniel!, she chastised, "Did you make Steven play!"

"Don't worry, he's just a little frozen. We didn't make him play; we're not that heartless."

"Sometimes I wonder." she muttered as she began to remove Steve's gloves and unzip his jacket. Her son's partner hadn't yet uttered a word but only looked embarrassed by the attention. She took his, now gloveless, hands in hers and tried to rub some warmth back into them.

Danny knew by lack of protest that Steve was beyond cold. He shivered as hands, both Stella's and her son's, rubbed up and down his arms. If Super SEAL had been up to it, he'd surely have protested the fuss being made over him.

"Daniel, run upstairs and get the electric blanket off my bed and bring it here." ordered Stella.

Without hesitating, Danny turned and was out the kitchen door in a flash. Steve could hear him thundering up the stairs to his parent's room.

"Mrs. Williams, I don't . . . ", the tall man started to protest but was immediately shushed.

"Ma or even Stella if you can't bring yourself to say it, remember?" said Stella Williams somewhat more harshly than she'd intended. _When will these kids ever learn? _

"Stella . . . you really don't have to . . . " he began again, his toes now beginning to tingle and burn with returned warmth as he still shivered.

"Just be quiet, Steven. You're as bad as the rest of my kids! Why didn't you say something? Danny should have been watching out for you!"

"Stella, I . . . "

"You don't have to be strong all the time! It's OK to need a little help! Daniel was right!"

"Daniel usually is." said the blonde man; referring to himself in the third person as he wrapped the electric blanket around his partner and searched for the outlet in which to plug it.

"Put it on high, Daniel." ordered Stella, moving toward the stove to pour a cup of cocoa she'd just made in a large pot in readiness for the returning hordes. She handed it to Steve who took it in both shaking hands and tried to bring it to his lips without spilling any. His teeth chattered on the edge of the cup and Danny reached to steady it before his partner wound up wearing it.

"Daniel, go make up a bed on the couch in front of the fireplace. It's the warmest place in the house."

"Stella . . . "

"Shut up Steven!" said both mother and son in unison; quashing another protest from the still only semi-thawed SEAL. Danny disappeared into the living room to do his mother's bidding.

The couch wasn't a pull-out but was large enough to make a decent bed, even for those who were on the tall side. It was an ancient but well-built piece of furniture that had been re-upholstered several times in Stella's quest for a '_House Beautiful'_ interior. Last year, she'd finally given up the wishful thinking; realizing though her own kids could now be trusted with non slip-covered furniture, the grandkids could not. Its current look was more sturdy than fashionable.

Danny himself had spent a few nights on it when younger and recuperating from whatever was 'going around' at the time. He threw a pillow and a comforter on it and went to get his partner.

Stella was already shepherding the man to the couch. He was padding across the carpet in his stocking feet, the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and the cord trailing along behind him like an electric tail.

"Lay down and get warm." she ordered with the tone that brooked no resistance. Danny recognized it well. Steve obeyed, settling himself on the sofa as Danny lifted his feet for him and Stella tucked him in like a five-year-old.

Steve was mortified but, the soft warmth of the bedding and downy pillows drew him into it and he luxuriated in the feeling. Maybe letting people pamper him wasn't so bad after all. It was still embarrassing though.

"Take a nap SuperSEAL." said Danny, actually patting him on top of the head. "We'll wake you up for dinner."

"Danny, really . . . "

"Shut up." came mother and son's voices together again.

"Just try to sleep, Steven and get warm. Sweet dreams." added Stella, tenderly patting him on the cheek before going back to her kitchen.

After she'd left the room, the blonde man hissed, "Look, you idiot, just let her mother the crap out of you. We need someone to take the burden of being smothered in all that "maternal comfort' for awhile. You'd be doing us a favor . . . you have no idea."

Danny looked down, smirking at his now drowsy looking partner. He turned to stoke the fire and when he was done and had turned back to the sofa, his partner had already slipped into oblivion; a suspiciously contented expression on his lean face.

...

After another forty-five minutes, it was beginning to grow dark. The players trooped off the field and into the large kitchen. Victors and vanquished claimed their cups of hot chocolate as they verbally and noisily replayed the highlights of the match for their matriarch.

Danny's dad, Augie, sat quietly enjoying the calamity. An amused expression on his face as he sat chewing on the end of his pipe. His wife wouldn't let him smoke it in the house. This was a close as he could get to his relaxing addiction.

Danny's second in command, his sister Angie, had captained the team to a narrow victory over her brother Anthony's band of rag-tag warriors. Danny knew she could kick any of their asses in a fight; maybe even Steve's when he was in _good_ shape. Right now, it wouldn't even be close to a fair fight. She was the other cop in the family and would soon be promoted to Lieutenant. Danny was happy for her but, it did bother him (just a little), that his younger sister would soon outrank him . . . on paper anyway.

Stella had closed the door that lead from the kitchen to the living room, hoping to dampen some of the sound from her noisy brood so as not to waken her newest son.

_The boy doesn't look well. , _she'd thought when first laying eyes on him.

In contrast to the photos Danny had emailed every now and then, Steve had lost weight, acquiring hollows under his eyes. He appeared different in another way . . . sad . . . maybe haunted looking. Danny was right to drag him along. She'd fatten him up and being around her crazy family would, surely, take away the melancholy.

Just then, the kitchen door opened and Steve; hair sticking up in odd directions smiled as he surveyed the group in the room.

"Steve!" everyone greeted at once; Angela and Stella rushed forward to usher him to a now empty chair next to Danny.

"Hey, SuperSEAL" greeted his partner; eyes going over Steve to assess his current state of health. "You thawed out yet?"

"Yeah, thanks to you and your mom, I'm good as new."

"Well, at least you're as good as when you got here." said Danny

Steve was still more than embarrassed he'd been unable to complete his duties and had to be taken back to the house like a child. _He was only scorekeeper for chrissake! _

"So, who won?" he asked, trying to re-direct attention.

"My team!" crowed Angela, raising her cocoa cup in victory. There were cheers and boos from the assembled.

"Ya buncha wusses!" she retorted to those who'd booed.

Steve laughed aloud; the first time Danny'd heard him do so since he'd gotten back from deployment. It sounded good.

"How you feeling?" asked Angela, concern on her wind reddened face.

"Good, I'm good." he answered, still looking uncomfortable. "All warm and toasty thanks to Danny and, most specifically, Mrs. Williams."

"Hey!" said nearly the entire gathering at once.

Steve looked startled, confusion on his face, wondering what he'd done wrong. His transgression seemed to suddenly dawn on him and he blushed and said, "Uhh . . . Stella?"

"Hey!" said most of the younger members of the group. Steve now looked totally confused, not knowing what he'd done this time. Anthony took the lead, saying, "No way Steve. If you're going to be part of this family, my newest and tallest brother, that's not the name to use when addressing our esteemed matriarch."

Now Steve was absolutely frozen in place, looking toward Danny who only motioned to him in the gesture that bade his partner to speak.

"Uhh . . . ma?" said Steve, his face crimson.

A cheer went up from the small group and they all came forward to clap him on the back and tousle his already disheveled hair. Danny winced for his partner, knowing that Steve didn't necessarily like people putting hands on him unless he invited it.

The Williams clan was way more touchy-feely, (and a lot louder), than Steve was used to. This was going to be an interesting experience for his reserved partner. Hopefully, he'd even survive it.

Steve smiled broadly and ducked his head. Danny had never seen his steely-eyed, fearless and sometimes downright arrogant partner so flustered. This was fun.

There was laughing, joking and name-calling. Anthony told the story of the time Danny decided to move the fridge all by himself from one side of the kitchen to the other, thinking it would look better against the other wall. After a loud crash, they'd come running in and found him pinned under it; only his legs visible underneath it like in 'The Wizard of Oz' when the house had landed on top of the Wicked Witch. When they'd lifted the appliance off him, he was covered in milk, green jello and leftover spaghetti, unhurt but totally pissed.

Anthony could barely speak as he described the blue language coming from his brother. Language that would've gotten his mouth washed out with soap if his mother had heard it.

Steve, almost breathless from the hilarity, managed to wheeze out, "How old was he when this happened?" thinking it must be a story from childhood.

"It was only year before last!" guffawed Anthony as Steve promptly doubled over in laughter; Danny alternately glaring at his partner and throwing murderous looks toward his brother.

"It's OK, D" gasped Steve, now breathless and holding his aching ribs. "I won't tell Chin and Kono . . . unless you give me good reason to."

"Hey, Mister Five-0, blackmail is illegal in New Jersey!" defended Angie, mockingly standing up for her 'big' brother.

"Same in Hawaii." answered Steve, "but I may use it for some 'creative persuasion' if I have to."

"Watch it Steven, Angie can and will kick your ass!" said Danny; raising an eyebrow in warning. "My money's on the chick, Super SEAL."

"I have no doubt, D." laughed McGarrett as he caught Angie's eye and the two of them, once again, collapsed in laughter at Danny's expense.

The good time continued all the way through dinner and beyond. Stella had outdone herself with the anti-pasto, the eggplant Parmesan _and_ lasagna she'd made in honor of the newest member of the family.

The 'girls' had prepared desert; a tiramisu to die for. The guys, who'd not contributed toward preparing the meal, were drafted for clean-up duty.

Steve got the job of drying while Danny washed and Anthony, David and Philip put everything back where it belonged and then swept up.

Stella came into the kitchen to check-up on her cleaning crew and frowned when she noticed how pale and tired the tall man appeared.

Untying the apron he'd donned at her insistence, (she had a large stock of them apparently as everyone on clean-up duty was wearing one), she dragged him protesting toward the living room where the women and those children who were still awake were gathered.

"Hey!" said Anthony, "He's part of the family now, he's not excused from chores!"

"He is if I say he is, Anthony." replied Stella, dragging a reluctant Steve toward the kitchen doorway.

Danny caught the nearly panicked look on his partner's face as he was tugged away.

"Sorry man." said the blonde, eyes dancing. "It's your turn in the barrel." he laughed - referring to the tag line of a risque', if not downright lewd, joke they'd heard at the Thanksgiving luau from one of Steve's navy buddies.

In the living room, Stella sat Steve down on the sofa between herself and Angie. She knew her daughter's preference but, Steve would certainly make it tempting for any woman with a pulse. Though Angela had long ago revealed her orientation to her parents, Stella still had a wistful hope that someday, her daughter would find 'the right guy'. Either way, she loved her daughter fiercely and even if it took getting used to, would respect her choices.

Stella herself had admired the image of the dashing commander in the email from her son last year. The cocky smile and athletic build were quite impressive but, that was before she'd actually met him and he'd become another one of her kids. Now, thinking of him any other way was just wrong.

The men had finished their clean-up and joined everyone in the living room. The rest of the night was spent listening to Steve's stories of Danny's bravery and his, sometimes, awkward adjustment to his new home or the 'pineapple infested hell-hole' as Steve said Danny usually called it. The stories entertained the Williams clan no end.

The fact that his usually reserved partner was comfortable enough to even tell the stories made up for any embarrassment on Danny's part. He considered it great progress toward the domestication of his Neanderthal friend.

Danny and the rest of the brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles continued storytelling; leaving no one unspared; even Stella and Augie didn't go unscathed.

One-by-one, people drifted off, saying their goodbyes and carrying sleeping children out to their cars for the trip home to bed. The steady but light snow had finally stopped and the temperature had dropped, making the night brittle with cold.

Both Danny and his mother had noticed Steve had grown much quieter though he still laughed at the appropriate places.

"Hey!" said Stella, "Time for all of you to get home before dawn at least. I don't know how you people are going to get out of bed in the morning, let alone get up early enough to feed the kids. Go Home!" she shooed them toward the door, kissing cheeks and administering hugs while Augie smiled, patted shoulders and accepted the hugs and kisses of his offspring.

"G'night Ma, Dad, Danny, Angie, Steve!" called out various voices as they left.

_What is this, the Waltons? _thought Steve, smiling as he waived back at the departing members of the clan.

"Welcome to the family, new brother!" said Anthony clapping Steve on the shoulder with enough force to nearly knock him over.

"Thanks, I'm honored." replied the tall man, managing to look embarrassed even though he sported a large, goofy smile.

"Go to bed!" said Augie to his children; nearly the quiet man's first words all evening.

"Yessir." said all four at once, including Steve.

"Steven, take the electric blanket with you. It's cold at that end of the house."

"Stella . . . er, Ma, really, I can't take your blanket."

"Don't worry, Steven, I have my own warm, cuddly blanket right here." said Stella, hugging her husband as the man looked back at his family with a rather smug expression on his weathered face.

"Ma!" said her three children in horror as Steve only smiled silently, taken with this show of affection from a couple who'd been together more years than he'd been alive. He wondered what his own mother and father would have been like had they lived long enough.

It was only a fleeting thought as Stella reminded him to take his meds before falling asleep. Obviously Danny had opened his big mouth about it. _Oh, well. It's nice that someone cares._

Everyone drifted off to bed as snow once again silently fell over the over the landscape.

...

Because of the time difference, Steve was still awake long after everyone had fallen asleep. He finally, got out of bed and sat looking out the window at their former gridiron now covered in a blanket of white that sparkled under the full moon. It was magical.

He heard Danny stirring and then felt him standing beside him.

"I really miss this." said the uncharacteristically subdued voice of the blonde man.

"It's really beautiful." Steve softly murmured, then adding as if to himself, "Especially when you don't have to shoot at anyone while you're in it."

"You having nightmares?" asked Danny in concern, turning from the window to look toward his partner's unreadable face.

"Just memories." was the quiet reply.

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Can't"

"Because you don't want to or because it's classified?"

The tall man turned toward his partner, his eyes revealing only sadness in the bright, cold, moonlight that shone through the windowpanes.

His last remembrance of moonlight on snow included a still body and blood that looked black in the moonlight as it seeped into the whiteness.

There would be no sleep for him tonight.

...

Stella was already bustling around in the kitchen when Steve wandered in; hair still awry. It had grown longer since he'd last buzzed it off when he'd been called up. It was now long enough to stand in messy spikes and half-hearted curls.

He tried smoothing it with his hands as he greeted the woman already beginning her day by chopping the onions for the breakfast frittata she was planning on making. The oven creaked and cracked as the metal expanded with the recently requested heat.

"Good Morning, Mrs. . . . uhh, Ma", said McGarrett.

"Steven", she greeted the bedraggled looking man. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Oh, fine, thank you." was the reply which was shortly negated with a ragged cough that seemed to catch him by surprise.

"Fine, my ass." said Stella taking in his pallor and the shadows beneath his eyes.

"No, honest, I'm . . . " A new round of coughing nearly doubled him over.

"Sit Steven!" she motioned toward the chairs around the big kitchen table. He sat as she set a cup of coffee, a pitcher of milk and a large sugar bowl in front of him.

Everything about the family seemed large. The table, the people, (except for Danny and his mom), the expansive personalities and the dramatic hand gestures used to discuss everything from recipes to politics. It was like being in the middle of an airport runway when everyone was talking at once. Steve could almost feel the air stir around him in the whirlwind of gestures as they communicated with one another.

"Danny says you're getting over some injuries from the last time you were called up? Where did they send you?"

Steve knew he couldn't get away with just the smirk he gave Danny when asked such a question. Danny had actually stopped asking, knowing Steve would never reveal anything considered 'classified'.

"I'm sorry, uhh . . . Ma, it's classified. I can't tell you." The woman looked a little startled then smiled, "Of course not." she said, "Not if it's classified."

Just then, Angela wandered in, looking bleary eyed and disheveled; her long, dark hair in wild disarray and like Steve, wearing sweats as pajamas.

Angela blinked her eyes as greeting and lowered herself into a chair across from the tall man. Steve gathered she wasn't very talkative in the mornings. He was OK with that; neither was he. Danny would say he wasn't talkative almost any time but, Steve really didn't think that was true. He just couldn't usually get in a word edgewise with his garrulous partner.

They sat quietly for awhile, enjoying the coffee and the sounds of Stella Williams chopping and mixing and humming to herself.

Steve, in spite of feeling more tired than he should, was enjoying it tremendously. It was a pleasant, secure feeling; one that he'd not felt since before his mother had been killed and his life had turned to shit.

He marveled at how quickly he'd been absorbed into the large, boisterous family of his best friend or that he'd even acquired a 'best friend'.

He'd become somewhat close to a few people in his life; classmates at the academy, teammates in the SEALS but, he'd never been as close to anyone, not blood related, other than his 'second father' - Joe White, as he was to Danny.

There was Cath but, much as he wanted to pursue that relationship, distance and duty always somehow got in the way. He didn't even know if she wanted the same thing. They'd never spoken of it . . . a future together. The times they'd been together were too few and far between. Somehow, physical need seemed to burn hotter than anything else when they'd managed to meet.

"So, Steve" said Angela, evaluating him over the edge of her steaming cup, her hazel brown eyes showing something like _amusement_? "You and my brother are partners?" she accentuated the last word.

"Yes, we are. We've been together for about a year and a half since we met while investigating the same murder." answered Steve, not catching Angela's innuendo.

Mrs. Williams did catch it though and warned, "Angie!"

"What Ma? Just trying to find out more about my brother's relationships. The ones I haven't had time to hear about."

"Oh . . . no . . . it's not that kind of partnership." said a startled McGarrett; finally catching on.

"No?" said Angela, managing to sound both skeptical and disappointed in the one word.

"No." said Steve emphatically, adding, "Not that there would be anything wrong with it if it was that 'type' of partnership." remembering to whom he was speaking. "We just work together and . . . we're friends."

"Too bad." said Angie, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I was hoping Danny had found someone to help him get over that snot-hole bitch he'd made the mistake of marrying."

"Angie!" warned Stella again, adding. "One, she was Danny's choice, Two, Gracie is the result of that choice and Three, no matter what his relationship with Steve is, it's a good one. I'm not going to question it. Now, leave Steven alone!"

Steve started to open his mouth to protest but, at this point, didn't even know exactly what he'd be protesting.

Angela, with a sly grin and a twinkle in her eyes smiled sweetly at the thoroughly confused and reddened face of the man who sat across the table from her.

"Angie! . . . hi Ma . . . Angie! Leave the man alone!" came Danny's voice from the kitchen door as he shuffled in, looking rumpled as the rest of them. He hadn't caught what his annoying sister had said but, from Steve's face, he gathered she was at it again.

The only one who didn't look rumpled was Stella who, even in her bathrobe, looked as though she was ready for tea with the royals.

"I told you Steven, she's as evil as they come." said Danny with a yawn and a stretch as his mother set another cup of coffee on the table along with a plate of hot biscuits and a pot of honey.

"I think we've sorted it out." smiled Steve

"Sorted what out?" asked Danny, knowing of what mischief his ornery sister was capable.

"Nothing." said all three of the people who were part of the 'partnership' discussion.

"Whatever" Danny waived his hand dismissively as he took a sip of coffee and reached for a biscuit.

His partner was suddenly seized with another fit of coughing and turned away from the table to bend nearly double as he grabbed his midsection.

"That's what you get for not telling anyone you were freezin' your ass off yesterday, idiot." said Danny, his tone reproachful but his face showing only worry.

"Thanks for your concern." wheezed Steve when the coughing abated.

"Steven, you should go to the doctor." said Stella, coming to pat him on the shoulder and then feel his forehead as though he was a sick child.

"I'm good." said Steve automatically as Danny glared at him.

"You feel a little warm." said Stella, now standing in front of him with her arms crossed over the ample bosom covered by the fleecy pink robe.

"Ma, give it up, Super SEAL would have to have a limb missing before agreeing to see the doctor." snarked Danny.

"No, I wouldn't!" protested Stella's newest son.

Danny only glared back at him from across the table as Steve glared in kind.

"Children!" warned Stella

"Leave 'um alone Ma, they're both the tragic victims of testosterone poisoning. You're not going to get anywhere with the 'guys' " snarked Angela, somehow making that last word sound like a terrible affliction.

Danny and Steve looked back at her with a frown. _Should I say something?_ wondered the tall man. He wasn't sure yet how the family dynamic worked and he didn't want to start anything untoward.

The back door swung open and a frigid blast of air burst in with Augie as he walked in from the early morning cold; a grocery sack in his arms.

"Thanks, Honey." greeted Stella as she pecked her husband on the cheek and took out the eggs and half-gallon of orange juice from the paper sack.

"You're up early, Augie", said Steve in way of greeting.

"Yeah, well my 'beloved' ordered me to go get some extra groceries for breakfast. It's a good thing Frantoni's Market opens at six."

"Hey" said Danny, how is Mr. Frantoni?"

"He's fine as always. Working hard; still trying to marry off that daughter of his. When he'd found out about your split with . . . that woman," said Augie Williams, still not willing to say Rachel's name in his house, "He was all over me about getting you two together."

"What!" squawked Danny "She's not bad looking but she's a harridan!"

"Wow" said Steve, "Good word, D."

"Harridan, Steven. It means . . . "

"I know what it means, Daniel but, it's just us here. You don't have to impress anyone with your vocabulary."

Angela nearly snorted coffee through her nose at Steve's remark.

"Yeah" she said, "Danny's never been the same since he dated that MENSA chick. He walked around with a dictionary for months!"

"So, that's what did it." laughed Steve

"Hey, she was hot! Even you thought so, Angie!" her blonde brother defended.

"Yeah," said Angela, looking directly at the tall man across the table, "but, she was so out of your league Danny . . . and, I'm not sure but, she may have been a harridan - you seem to be attracted to that type."

She and Steve actually giggled as Danny sat trying to come up with a smart retort to his annoying sister and his even more annoying friend whose laughter, once again, turned into a coughing fit.

"I'll make an appointment with Doctor Klein as soon as his office opens." said Stella whose tone brooked no opposition.

Steve looked beseechingly at his partner who only shrugged and lifted his hands in a 'whadda-ya-gonna-do' gesture.

Just then, Danny's phone rang to the tune of 'We are the Champions'. It was the ring tone he'd loaded for the office phone at 5-0. He dug into the pocket of his flannel sleep pants, muttering something about 'no rest for the wicked'. He'd promised he would keep his phone on him at all times in case they had any questions. He'd made sure Steve's phone had been turned off for the night and left on the bed stand.

"Hey, Chin" he answered, his brow knitting as he listened. "When? Anyone hurt?"

Steve instantly sat up straighter, looking like a border collie about to launch itself after an errant flock of sheep.

"Yeah, OK. I'll meet you at the airport. Call you with the time."

"What's going on Danny?" asked Steve tensely, searching his friend's face for a clue.

Danny looked at him with warning but answered, "Someone set off a bomb at the Ala Moana Center Mall. There were a few injuries but no one was seriously hurt."

"We need to go back! I'll pack, you call the airlines!" said Steve starting to stand.

"No, no, no, SuperSEAL. Not so fast. You do remember that you're on medical leave for at least another three weeks? You, my overzealous friend, are going nowhere." warned Danny, putting his hand on his partner's shoulder to push him back into his chair.

"I can go back to work now! I'm fine!" defended Steve almost vibrating with the desire to return to action.

"No!" said Danny emphatically. "I'm in charge, remember? You have no say in this right now. Besides", said Danny holding his hands in front of Steve's face as he counted off on his fingers, "One: you're not fine. You're nowhere even near fine. Two: " he continued with a fierce look as the SEAL began to open his mouth in protest.

"Two: the new governor said if you come back before you're ready, he'll can both our asses. Remember, we are _so_ not on his good list right now. He still hasn't gotten over that last grenade thing you pulled before you were deployed."

Once again, Steve started to protest but Danny stopped him before he could get a word out.

"Three:" said Danny who now held up three fingers in front of his partner's face, "Ma would kill me if I let you go back before you've had time to recover and she's stuffed you enough to gain back a couple of pounds. I swear, if you turned sideways and stuck out your tongue, you'd look like a zipper."

"Danny's right, Steve." said Angela backing her older brother. "At least about the last one. No offense, but you look like something the cat dragged in after finding it lying dead somewhere . . . and . . . " she held up her hand to stop further protest, "If Ma doesn't kill you; I will . . . and trust me, SEAL or not, I think I can take you right now."

"What she said!" piped his partner, pointing one finger at Angela and waving toward his mother with the other hand. The older woman stood observing the conversation; a stern look on her face.

Steve knew when he was beat. He ran a hand through his already messy hair in frustration and slumped back into the chair.

"I've gotta go pack . . . uh uh, Steven. I don't need your help." said his partner as Steve rose to accompany him. "Get some breakfast. Let Ma stuff you. The sooner you get back to fighting weight, the sooner you get back to work. We _do_ need you but, not in the shape you're currently in."

With that, Danny turned to leave as Steve hung his head and Stella Williams sympathetically patted his shoulder.

...

Steve, Angela and her parents waived from the porch as Danny rode off in the taxi, calling out the window "I'll say hi to Cujo for you!"

"Cujo?" asked Stella

"He's . . a cat." said Steve self-consciously though he didn't even know why.

"You have a cat?" laughed Angela

"Yeah, uhh, long story." said Steve as he ducked back into the warmth of the house. He heard Angela cackling behind him as she followed him inside.

...

Chin was there to greet him at the airport. Danny only had a carry-on so he wouldn't have to wait for any luggage. He'd left all his bulky cold weather gear in Jersey, knowing he was going to try to return in the next couple of days.

"Hey, brah" greeted Chin, "Sorry to disrupt your holiday."

"I think you had good enough reason. Besides, getting away from my mom's need to suffocate me with love is kind of a relief."

"How's our pupuli friend?" smiled Chin

"If pupuli means crazy, then I'm assuming you're asking about Steve?"

"Yeah. He OK with being left in Jersey alone?"

"Alone he's not. He should be so lucky to be alone. Right now he's probably trying to weasel out of my mother's grasp while fighting off the slings and arrows of my little sister."

"How bad could that be?" smiled Chin, picturing his stoic boss trying to remain that way in the family that spawned their dynamic detective.

"Let's just say, it's a good thing Steve doesn't have his gun on him." laughed Danny.

"He agreed to leave his gun?" asked Chin in astonishment.

"He didn't exactly _agree_ to leave it. I took it out of his carryon before we left for the airport."

"I still don't know how you got away with that, brah."

"Oh, we had a 'come to Jesus' meeting about him carrying a gun to my family's Christmas. He almost refused to get on the plane but, I think spending the holiday with only that psychotic cat for company wasn't something he could handle this year."

"Yeah, we've all been worried about him. He hasn't been the same since Korea."

"He hasn't been the same since being screwed over by Jameson."

"Yeah, you're right. Korea only put the nails in the coffin."

"So" said Danny, rubbing his hands together and changing the subject. They actually did have work to do. "What do you have on the bombing? Where do we start?"

...

The case almost wrapped itself up.

The bomber was careless enough to leave a very clear print on what was left of the timing mechanism.

It took only a few minutes to find a match for it in the AFIS data base.

It belonged to one of the mall rent-a-cops who'd been fingerprinted as part of a background check when he'd applied for the job.

The unbalanced man, (he'd already been turned down by regular law enforcement due to the results of the psych eval), had planted the explosive device in the food court near the object of his desire, an underage local girl who worked at the shave-ice stand.

She was smart enough to reject the advances of the chubby, nearly thirty-year-old security guard. She wasn't very kind in her rejection, telling him he made her skin crawl. She also told him to leave her alone or she'd sic her brothers and uncles on him.

Danny figured the guy wanted to go out in a blaze of glory with his unrequited beloved or perhaps the thought of being pummeled by a family of very large, very angry, Somoans was the more painful option.

Anyway, no one had been hurt badly and Thomas Newalu would be going to prison or maybe a mental hospital for a long time.

Chin, Kono and Danny had a last dinner together before Danny was to get on a morning flight back to Jersey.

The three had just pulled up to the palace when they were nearly mowed down by someone in a dark grey hoodie running frantically out of the building, a screeching cat hot on his heels.

...

TBC

**Note: Best wishes to Mr. O'Loughlin. I hope he feels better soon.**


	8. Killer Skunks of Hawaii

Cujo II - Chapter 8

**Thank you all for the reviews, alerts and favorites. They really are an incentive to get out of bed on some mornings, (that and the demands of the members of my household). This was written several months ago and had languished in a notebook buried under a bunch of stuff on my desk. It's amazing what one finds when one actually does housework!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything from or about Hawaii except for a T-shirt that's lasted longer than the marriage of the friends who purchased it on their honeymoon.**

**Note: There are no skunks in Hawaii but since this is fiction, let's just pretend for now.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Killer Skunks of Hawaii

The dim moonlight shone through the large windows of the office. Indicator lights on various pieces of office electronics glowed and blinked away in the darkness.

He crept down the hallway toward what he knew to be McGarrett's office.

As soon as the holidays were over, the man would probably be returning to work. Getting an early start on the tenacious man's demise was what had him creeping around in the middle of the night.

The door to the office had been left slightly ajar. He pushed it open with gloved fingertips and heard a low, menacing, growl from inside the room.

He froze.

_Shit! No one said there was a guard dog here!_

With an unearthly screech, something charged him and sank its fangs into his calf. He let out a screech of his own and flailed backwards, dropping the nylon bag he carried.

The thing howled and struck again. This time striking his ankle. All courage deserted him as he turned tail and he flew back down the corridor and across the outer office; the demented thing hot on his heels.

In panic, he caromed off various office furniture and equipment on the way toward the exit. Things crashed to the floor and broke into pieces.

The howling creature was relentless. It pursued him out the door and down the stairway to the main exit. He missed a couple of steps and tumbled downward, managing to brake his fall before breaking his neck.

Scrambling to his feet and batting blindly at the creature that struck at him repeatedly, he dashed across the lobby and slammed against the panic bar on the glass door. It opened outward and he fled down the steps, the yowling thing still behind him.

Nearly mowing down some people coming up the steps, he brushed blindly past them and fled across the parking lot to his car parked on a side street.

Whatever was chasing him stopped at the edge of the parkway and he managed to make it to his car, jumping in quickly to roar off into the night.

Surely, that had been a demon behind him. What else could it be?

...

The storm dumped nearly six inches of rain on them in only three hours. It was warm rain but there was entirely too much of it.

_Great, _thought Danny Williams, _Freeze to death in Jersey or drown on this pile of cooling lava. Decisions, decisions._

Kono and Lori dashed in, shaking the rainwater out of their hair like sleek, elegant, Afghan hounds.

"Nothing" said Kono bleakly when the blonde man looked at her expectantly.

"No prints, DNA, nada." filled in Lori.

Danny ran his hand through his hair. He'd had them rush the nylon bag and its contents to Charlie Fong. The bag their prowler had dropped last night had contained several listening devices the man, no doubt, intended to plant around the offices.

He'd sent the women to Charlie and told them to wait there for results. He knew it didn't take both women to do this task but he didn't want anyone out there alone right now.

It was surely the guy or guys who'd already made the attempt to kill two of them and then attempted to bug the HQ. They were still out there somewhere. He had Chin checking for any information they could get from the few serial numbers on the electronics themselves.

The four had made an unsuccessful attempt to catch the guy who'd come bursting out the door with their mascot right behind him. Cujo had come back willingly after chasing the intruder for nearly a block. Danny didn't know if it was because he'd learned his lesson last time he'd gotten out but, more likely, the fierce animal had drunk the blood of the enemy, considered his job done, and it was time to go home and take a nap.

Chin had the bright idea of trying to see if any of this mystery visitor's blood had wound up on Cujo's fur or collar. There was blood but, it was old and had proven to be Danny's.

The sinewy Hawaiian would have laughed but the frustration of not finding anything to give a clue on the prowler's identity stopped him.

...

"Alright, Buzzsaw. I know you miss him but, stop lookin' at me like that. I can't produce him from thin air."

Cujo sat on the blotter in front of him, staring with those eerie yellow eyes. Danny knew he could probably get him to leave but, it would only lead to the feline version of a pissing match.

The tough little detective moved his paperwork to the corner of his desk thinking; I'm just as nuts as McGarrett! Now, I'm letting a fucking cat decide where I work . . . on my own damned desk!" He shook his head at himself in disgust.

He'd phoned his parents as soon as he'd gotten back to Honolulu. Since the flight was such a long one, it was his custom to let them know he'd arrived safely. Besides, he wanted to know if his mother had 'persuaded' SuperSEAL into seeing the doctor.

Steve really didn't look that well when Danny left. He could see the flush on his partner's lean face that could indicate he had a fever. Danny knew his mother would make sure Steve took his meds. He'd handed her a quick note with the dosages right before he left.

He also knew the woman would make sure his stubborn friend took care of himself. Super SEAL was no match - no match at all - for Stella Williams . . . or her daughter Angela.

Danny was surprised when his dad picked up the phone. It was odd that Augie Williams would actually answer it. The elder Williams considered it his wife's job to do all the communicating for the two of them. Danny knew his dad was always there, quiet and strong; the one who could be counted on to quell any hysteria and be the anchor in the storm.

He'd retired from the Newark City Fire Department after many years and knew a lot about chaos and how to organize it. The skill had come in really handy in the large, noisy, family with the sometimes mercurial temperaments.

"Hey, son. Glad you made it in one piece." greeted Augie.

"Why are you answering the phone Dad? That's never been your job . . . not that I don't wanna talk to you but where's Ma?"

"She talked, or should I say, bullied, Steve into seeing Dr. Klein. I think she also bullied the doctor's receptionist into seeing him so quickly - you know your mother. I can never get in any sooner than the next day."

"Sounds about right." laughed Danny

"She called about forty minutes ago. Klein wants to put Steve on some stronger antibiotics and a narcotic cough medication. I think there's an inhaler involved too. Looks like he may be at the beginnings of pneumonia and maybe re-aggravated something with all that coughing."

"Why am I not surprised?" muttered Danny darkly.

"Yeah, well, your Mom's got it under control. Poor Steve didn't know what hit him . . . and I'm not talking about the pneumonia." snorted Augustine Isaac Williams, husband of the indomitable force that was his wife, Stella Marie Galuzzi Williams.

"Thanks Dad. Have Steve give me a call if he's up to it. Tell him everything's under control. Chin and Kono caught the bad guy - no further injuries and everyone hurt in the explosion is going to be OK. I'm gonna stick around for another day or two before coming back. There's a few things that need to be tied up before I can leave. Oh, and before I forget, tell Steve that Cujo misses him."

"Cujo, yeah. I heard about that animal." laughed his dad.

"It's all true, Dad. He's attitude with teeth. Perfect pet for SuperSEAL."

Augie laughed again and then bid his son goodbye. "Take care Son. We'll see you in a few days. I'll tell your mother you called."

"Stay warm, take care of that other animal for me." and Danny rang off.

...

Steve had driven and actually managed to keep the big Lincoln within the speed limit. He didn't want to find out if Stella had the same issues with velocity as her outspoken son.

Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, they'd stopped at the big supermarket on their way back from Steve's medical appointment.

The parking lot was nearly full. Shoppers were loading their carts with frozen turkeys, hams, big bags of potatoes . . . all the provisions for holiday feasting.

He let her out of the car by the portico at the front door and went to find a place to park. It took a couple of minutes before someone pulled out and he immediately fit the big car into the vacant slot.

He parked and shut off the engine; pocketing the keys and pulling his parka tighter around himself as he exited the car to walk across the snow dusted asphalt toward the front entrance.

Suddenly, there were screams and shouts coming from where he'd just dropped off his passenger.

Hurrying toward the commotion, he could see a guy in a bulky orange parka pulling with all his might on someone's purse. The familiar looking woman, still on her feet, was being dragged screaming like a banshee across the concrete walkway as she held onto the strap of the big bag like a pitbull.

"Hey!" he yelled as he began to run toward them. The attacker looked up; he appeared to be no older than sixteen or so. Steve continued his yelling to keep the little punk distracted before he decided to do something about the woman keeping him from his prize.

The kid gave one last desperate tug on the purse before the strap broke and Stella plopped backward onto the ground. Clutching it under his arm, he rabbited across the crowded parking lot.

McGarrett stopped just long enough to assure himself that Stella was alright. Other people were now coming to her aid.

"I'm OK, I'm OK!" said the tough little woman as she waived them off.

He vaguely heard Stella yell, "Steven! No!", as he took off at a run across the frosty parking lot; long legs quickly making up the distance.

Stella realized she'd been stupid enough not letting go of the purse in the first place, she didn't want Steve to risk any injury on account of something that was completely replaceable.

By the end of the first row of parked cars, McGarrett had caught up with the little scumbag and taking a powerful leap, tackled him. Both pursued and pursuer crashed heavily onto the asphalt; knocking the wind out of both of them. The big purse slid away across the frozen ground.

The kid managed to reach his feet a half second before the SEAL, and in a surprisingly well-executed move, sprung into the air and landed a hard kick to McGarrett's chest.

The impact of the heavy boot was only partially cushioned by the thick parka. Steve felt something give in his chest that shouldn't have. He was knocked backward to land with a thump and whatever breath he'd managed to take, left his body in a sharp huff.

He tried to regain his feet but only succeeded in sitting up before the world tilted around him.

The kid, apparently deciding now was the time to get his pound of flesh in exchange for the pocketbook, poised on one leg to aim a boot at McGarrett's head . . . big mistake.

The SEAL grabbed the kid's ankle and twisted sharply; hearing a gratifying crunch as the knee attached to the leg attached to the ankle gave way. The kid screamed in pain and clutching his knee, rolled back and forth in agony. He was alternately crying for his mother and cursing a blue streak at McGarrett, McGarrett's parents and the ancestors of his parents.

_These Jersey people really know how to do it right_, thought Steve in detached admiration of the kid's profanity skills. He sat breathing heavily, a smug grin on his face as others rushed up to them along with a store security guard who nervously trained his gun on both combatants; the muzzle wavering back and forth between the two.

Stella, her purse forgotten, came to kneel next to him, concern on her face.

"Steven! Are you hurt! What were you thinking! He could've had the damned purse. It isn't worth getting hurt over!"

Eyebrows knit in surprised bewilderment, he gasped out, "I'm good. Don't worry."

Others helped him to his feet, patting him on the back as Stella glared at him, shaking her head in motherly disapproval.

"You!" she said through clenched teeth, eyes blazing as she whirled toward the kid still clutching his knee but looking defiantly upward.

"How dare you hurt my son! What the hell's the matter with you! I'd have _given_ you money if you'd asked!"

The kid sneered up at her, "Keep your fucking money! Your asshole son probably broke my leg! He's lucky I didn't kick his brains in."

With that, Stella Williams, mother hen to the world . . . lost it.

Through the haze of pain, Steve saw her lunge toward the kid; hands poised to close around the scrawny little snake's neck.

"Stella! NO!" wheezed the SEAL, lunging to grab the furious woman before she managed to get her hands on the kid and throttle him, (in front of witnesses).

A couple of others, luckily stout men, managed to restrain her. They both had amused expressions as they struggled to control the beyond angry little woman.

"Lady! The kid's done for! Knock it off now; your son already took care of him!" said the one wearing a Russian style fur hat as he strained to hold onto her. The other only grunted in agreement, his attention too taken up with the prevention of homicide to say anything.

Stella finally stopped struggling against her restrainers though she still glared murderously at the little asshole on the ground. He now had the decency to at least look somewhat frightened.

Steve would have laughed if his chest didn't hurt quite so much at that moment. _It shouldn't be this difficult to catch my breath._

The 'real' cops came to handcuff the kid and take him into custody. They'd first have to make a stop at the ER. The little punk's knee was probably toast.

They took their reports from Stella, Steve and the remaining bystanders. Most had melted back into the throngs of holiday grocery shoppers.

Steve politely declined the offers of assistance from the uniformed officers who'd responded to the call. After checking his ID and determining he was one of their own, they suggested he catch a ride with them to be checked out at the hospital

The ache in his chest had eased a little. He surreptitiously fished into a pocket, took out a pain pill and dry swallowed it. He'd, somehow, have to ask Stella to drive back without arousing her suspicion.

After all was settled for the moment, Steve assuring Stella he was fine; they went into the market to get on with the grocery shopping. Steve moved carefully as he could so as not to further aggravate the now only uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

Angela had already called her mother to check on what was taking them so long. Stella briefly explained what had happened; leaving out the part about having to be restrained from choking the ever living shit out of the little bastard who'd kicked Steve.

Angie was waiting for them at the entrance as they wheeled the heavily laden cart out the door.

"Can't trust you two to keep out of trouble." she clucked at them, hands on her hips.

"Honey, you didn't have to come out here. We're just on our way home" said Stella to her obviously worried daughter. Steve remained silent; a smug smile on his face.

"I hear SuperSEAL saved the day." smiled Angie

"Well, saved dinner at least." he smiled back at her.

She helped them load the groceries into the barn-like trunk of the Lincoln; even hefting the nearly thirty-pound turkey before Steve reached for it. Angela stared at him, daring him to say something about it being too heavy for her to lift.

After working with Kono Kalakaua for nearly two years, Steve definitely knew better than to say such a thing. He only raised his hands in surrender as she wrestled the frozen bird into the cavernous trunk already nearly full with what seemed enough food to feed nearly everyone he'd ever met.

"Ma, why don't you drive this gigantic bus back to the house? Steve and I will go in my car to meet you there to unload." said Angela in a mild tone.

"Angela, Steve's had enough difficulty today. Don't give him a hard time!" warned her mother as the tall man handed her the keys to the Lincoln.

"We're just gonna . . . bond, Ma. Don't worry." said Angela smiling like a shark.

_Uh oh, this can't be good_, thought Steve. _Danny's right. The woman is evil. _

"Should she be driving in the snow?" asked Steve as he and Angela watched Stella carefully pull the big vehicle out of the tight parking space and drive slowly out of the lot.

"She's been driving in snow for years, Mr. Hawaiian Sunshine. I'm sure she'll do a better job than you would right now."

Steve only looked at her with 'puzzled puppy' face.

Did you take any pain pills?"

"Uh, yeah." answered Steve, startled and annoyed. "I . . . I'd intended to ask her to drive back. I was just trying to come up with a story that wouldn't make her worry."

"Good luck with that." laughed the dark-haired woman. "She's heard 'em all by now. It'd have to be a helluva good one."

Steve snorted, he _was_ glad he didn't need to create one. He could see from where Danny got his startlingly perceptive instincts. It was probably some sort of freaky gene they all shared.

"So," began the tall man as they walked toward Angela's Chevy. "Other than being worried about your mom, why did you come out here?" he asked curiously.

She looked at him, dark hazel eyes serious. "I called Danny to tell him what happened before he heard it from one of his friends on the force. You know how news travels . . . "

"Yeah, I didn't realize how efficient the 'blue net' is. Almost like the coconut telegraph back home." he laughed.

They'd reached the compact parked on the far side of the lot. Angela unlocked the doors and watched as Steve winced when he had to bend to get into the passenger seat.

"Anyway, " she continued as she got behind the wheel and buckled her seat belt, "Danny said not to trust you about any injuries, that you were, I quote 'stupidly stoic' and would try to hide them from us if you could."

Steve looked at her in only mild surprise. He should have known Danny would rat him out to his 2IC. Rather than anger him though, he was kind of relieved he wouldn't have to pretend in front of her.

"How are you really? Don't bother to lie to me." she warned

_Damn, does Danny's entire family have to sound just like him? _

"I'm good" he said automatically, then amended his statement when he saw the steely stare as the woman turned the key and the engine turned over only once before firing up.

Waiting for it to warm before pulling out, she continued to stare at him as he squirmed uncomfortably under Angie Williams' microscope.

"Well, I'm relatively good. The little asshole managed to get in a good kick to my chest . . . kinda hurts right now."

"Kinda?"

"Well . . . really hurts but, the pills should help. Now that I have Wonder Woman behind the wheel, I can take another."

"You'll let me know if it gets worse?"

Again, he surmised that wasn't really a question. "Yeah, I will. Promise . . . just how much did Danny tell you anyway?"

"Enough." she answered smugly.

...

The trip back to the Willams house was actually pleasant. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was Danny sitting next to him lecturing about taking care of himself better and his lack of communication skills.

If only the sun would come out, he could pretend he was home again.

They pulled into the driveway shortly after Stella and began to carry the groceries into the house. It took several trips to get them all into the kitchen.

Stella busied herself putting them away into the pantry and fridge. After struggling to re-arrange the shelves in the refrigerator to accommodate the gigantic turkey, Steve gently nudged her aside and had them reconfigured in just a minute or two. He knew that engineering degree was good for something other than angle, range and velocity.

Before he could straighten up, (slowly), Angie had the bird installed on the glass shelf. She looked at him smugly as she shut the enamel coated door.

He was almost grateful for her help. His chest, in spite of the additional pain pill was aching fiercely. He sat down at the table as Augie joined them and Stella set a platter of sandwiches down along with steaming bowls of meatball soup.

He really didn't feel much like eating. He put it down to the effects of the pain medication combined with the stronger antibiotics. He didn't want to offend Stella so he took a few bites of a sandwich and a couple spoonsful of the soup.

Angela, without being obvious, was watching him carefully. She saw him pale and grimace slightly as he quietly put down the soup spoon.

"Not gonna keep it down, are you?" she asked in a quiet whisper as her mother got up to answer the phone and her father went to make himself a cup of hot tea.

"No, sorry." he said as he excused himself and rushed to the downstairs bathroom.

Everything after that was kind of blurry. He remembered splashing water on his face and rinsing his mouth. He wobbled back out into the hallway, saying he was going upstairs to lie down for awhile.

_Damn, why does my chest hurt so much?_

His next memory was a brief one. There were bright lights and people and talking and hands stripping off his clothing. He struggled to shove them away but a strong, soft hand was on his shoulder and a voice said, "It's OK Steve. Just let them help you."

...

"What the hell did you get into?"

The cat only looked at him calmly; the very picture of innocence. Danny was sure he'd seen the same expression on McGarrett's face when his partner had committed some act of complete idiocy that Danny would then brace him about. Steve would just shrug and give him that same look.

Cujo looked around as if trying to figure out where that smell was coming from.

"Don't look at me, you little asshole. You're the one who reeks."

The cat only stared back at him unblinkingly, seeming not totally convinced that, he himself, was the source of the odor.

Chin and Kono walked into the 'situation room' and both recoiled from the odor that assaulted them.

"What the hell is that smell?" said Kono as she wrinkled her nose and resolved to breathe through her mouth for the time being.

Chin covered his face by pulling up the neck of his T-shirt until the cloth could be held over his nose.

"Brah" he said through the knitted cotton, "What did you get into and is it permanent? I'm about to puke."

"It's not me!" said Danny indignantly. "It's the buzzsaw. I think he pissed off a skunk. I didn't even know they have those on this godforsaken island."

"We have to do something!" said Kono, her eyes beginning to tear. "How did he even manage to get sprayed? He's an indoor only cat when he's here!"

"Well" said Danny - actually sounding guilty, "You know how he kind of lurks by the door sometimes?"

The cousins looked at the blonde man with surprise . . . and maybe a little bit of disappointment.

"He sort of made a break for it before I could stop him and I couldn't coax the little jerk back in . . . so. . . I kind of . . . left him out." Danny's voice dropped to almost a whisper at the last part of his explanation for Cujo's unplanned outdoor adventure.

"You left him out all night?" said Chin, "McGarrett's gonna kick your ass!"

"Well, how was I to know his pet barracuda was gonna pick a fight with a skunk!" defended the little detective indignantly.

"Just sayin', you'd better hope that smell goes away before he gets back." warned the sinewy Hawaiian.

"Well, he's not coming back anytime within the next few days. My mom just called; they threw his ass back into the hospital." said Danny, sounding more than a little worried.

"What!" exclaimed Kono. "I thought your mom had him under control!"

"Well, yeah. She did but, when they went shopping, someone tried to make off with her purse. Some punk knocked her down and before she could stop him, Steve did his thing and chased and then tackled the guy.

Apparently, the insect put up a fight and kicked Steve in the chest. It finished breaking or re-broke a couple of ribs and set him back . . . a lot. He had trouble breathing and passed out."

"Your mom OK?" asked Chin with concern.

"Yeah yeah, she's fine. She just want's the guy's blood for hurting Steve. They had to pull her off the little punk before she strangled him." Danny half smiled thinking of the tough little woman on a quest for revenge.

"Steve's gonna be OK though, right?" asked Kono

"If everything goes right, yeah, he should be but, what are the chances of things going the way they're supposed to when it involves Steve?"

"Have you talked to him yet?" asked Chin

"I tried to call but, he was asleep when I got through to his room, my sister Angie answered the phone. They're taking turns staying with him. I'm gonna try again later."

The three shook their heads nearly in unison. Who else but their over-amped, adrenaline junkie, boss could get himself into such shit while recuperating in a supposedly safe environment?

"Well," said Chin, breaking the contemplative silence, "What are we gonna do about Cujo? We can't leave him smelling like that. He's stinking up the office."

"Tell me something I don't know." said Danny sourly. "Why don't we draw straws, loser give him a bath?"

Both Chin and Kono looked at him as though he'd grown another head.

"Hey," said Danny, "How hard can it be? He only weighs about as much as a bag of chips."

"Said the man who was trapped in his car by a 'wolverine'." huffed Kono, referring to one of Danny's favorite names for the fierce creature that was their ninja watch cat.

"Yeah but, that was before we knew what he was really like. We're warned now . . . and we have guns."

"Brah, you've lost it." said Chin

Cujo just looked from one to the other as they spoke, having no idea they were discussing nearly every cat's worst nightmare . . . a bath.

"We'll just be prepared that's all. We've got Kevlar vests and we can borrow helmets and face protectors from HPD."

"Yeah, and where are we going to find chain-mail underwear?" asked Chin recalling Danny's ill fated adventure trying to smuggle the feisty feline into Steve's hospital room a few months ago.

"It won't come to that." scoffed Danny

"You really are nuts!" said Kono, convinced they'd be planning someone's funeral if they tried to bathe the animal who'd been rightly named Satan's spawn, (among others).

"You know" said Kono, "There are places that will bathe dogs . . . and cats for a fee."

"Yeah?" said both Danny and Chin at the same time.

"Let's look online." said her cousin eagerly, hoping what she said was true. He had no desire to spend the night in the ER. Tough though the 5-0's are; there was no hope of coming out the proposed 'bath op' unscathed. Cujo had already proven he could take down armed criminals.

After a brief online search, they found 'Pampered Paws - A Pet Salon' only a few blocks away from the palace. After explaining over the phone the 'touchy' attitude of their charge, the salon agreed to take him on for an additional twenty-five dollar fee; standard for 'difficult' clients.

Danny thought they were fools to pay that much. Chin thought it well worth the price. Kono was just glad the blood surely to be shed in this endeavor wasn't hers.

Now, how were they going to get the ferocious feline to the cat wash?

"Danny was the one who let him loose. I say he gets to take Cujo to the salon." smirked Kono.

"No freakin' way Kalakaua. I've already had my adventure transporting the little shit-head. Didn't work out too well as you'll remember." said the little detective.

"He might be OK if we just let him ride on the dash instead of in your pants." suggested Chin breaking into a broad smile as he brought up the disastrous incident when they'd smuggled Cujo into a hospital room.

"Good idea, cuz." said Kono, "Danny said that's actually the way he rode to the hospital that time . . . No, not in his pants, on the dash." she laughed as her cousin raised his eyebrows.

"OK, now I know that you've finally succumbed to sun and pineapple poisoning." said the blonde man.

"It's the only way, Brah. I don't see any other way to do it without getting killed." said Chin sounding as if he was trying to convince himself more than his fellow detective.

"Oh, come on, you wusses, he's just a little bitty kitty." Kono laughed at the fearful men before her.

"Yeah, said Danny, "A little kitty with claws like knives and teeth like a great white."

The 'shark' looked at them curiously from the center of the table and then got back to trying to find out where that smell was coming from.

"Danny, we'll just stuff him in a sack like last time."

"Last time, my fine Hawaiian friend . . . Last time, if you'll remember, the little asshole piranha bit you right _through_ the damned pillowcase."

"How could I not remember. I still have fang marks on my wrist!" said Chin.

Danny actually considered such marks a badge of courage, much as the scar on his arm from the first time he'd met Steve and the insane ninja SEAL had gotten him shot.

The three tough, armed detectives, with fear on their faces, regarded the half-grown cat staring innocently back at them from the middle of the smart table.

...

They'd , finally, settled on their method of transport for the fractious feline. Kono just picked him up and cooed to the little popoki while carrying him out to the car. The cat, let pretty much anyone but Danny pet him and even, (if he was in a good mood that day), pick him up.

McGarrett was the only one with fast enough reflexes, (and the courage), to stuff the cantankerous animal into the canvas bag.

Chin drove. Danny had flatly refused to be in such an enclosed space with Satan's spawn if he wasn't locked in a very strong steel cage. Cujo looked around suspiciously at the interior of the car but, relaxed when he realized he wasn't going to be restrained. Eventually he took his place on the dash, enjoying the feeling of speed as the scenery flashed by - the faster the better.

Cujo really is the feline equivalent of their restless, adrenaline junkie boss thought Kono.

The ride was uneventful. Though they'd have to deodorize the SUV, (or burn it), Cujo had behaved remarkably well; no howling, yowling, biting, scratching, attempted murder. It was all very civilized.

The person at the front desk, a tiny man with a purple streak in his spiky hair, a gold nose ring and a Filipino accent, smiled brightly at them when they walked in. His eyes went to the small grey cat sitting peacefully but watchfully in the tall Hawaiian girl's arms.

"You must be the people who called about bringing in a difficult cat. He doesn't seem so bad."

"You don't know him yet." volunteered the man who'd come in with the young woman and the reeking cat. "Just remember, no matter what he says, don't trust him." he smiled.

"Do you have gloves and a face mask?" asked Kono, only half in jest.

"Yeah, and a tranquilizer gun and chain-mail underwear?" added her companion.

The young man looked at Chin and raised his eyebrows.

"Long story."

"Well, I'm sure we'll get along just fine." assured the overly-confident young man as Kono gingerly handed him the cat who'd not let out a peep.

"He should be ready to leave in about two hours or so. He wrinkled his nose at the tense but still peaceful creature. "I can see, make that 'smell', why he needs a bath. We actually get a lot of dogs in here for deodorizing after getting skunked; never a cat though." he laughed as Cujo turned to regard him suspiciously.

Chin thought the cat was only sizing up his next victim. The calmness he exhibited was just a ruse until he could put his plan of destruction into place.

"Good luck" said the cousins simultaneously as the little man with the multi-hued coif stroked the still docile time-bomb. He took their information and the payment, telling them that he, personally, would be bathing this new client.

"That's too bad." said Kono as they walked back to their vehicle. "He seems like a nice little guy."

"Yeah, I hope they have his next of kin and his blood type listed in his personnel file."

They climbed back into the SUV; again wrinkling their noses at the odor left behind by their furry passenger. Kono was already planning on just throwing what she was wearing into the trash can. They'd have to hose out the car.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**TBC: Please let me know what you think of this chapter if you'd be so kind.**

**Note: My continued good wishes to Mr. O'Loughlin**


	9. A Losing Hand

Cujo II - The Return of the Buzzsaw

Chapter 9

**Here's another. I hope it's not too choppy. Thank you all for the reviews, alerts and favorites. I do read them, (sometimes several times after a particularly difficult day).**

**Note: To answer Dixie's question about the cat carrier: With a cat like Cujo, after a bloody tussle you might be able to get him into one but, getting him **_**out**_** of it would be nearly impossible. There were only two ways to get a cat like Cujo out of a carrier without getting killed; dismantle the carrier or use a dog catcher's noose, (to which one of the ****ex****-veterinarians of the cat Cujo is modeled after resorted). It wasn't pretty, nor very quiet. Who knew a veterinarian would know so many colorful adjectives?**

**Disclaimer: Only own Cujo. If I owned the others, I wouldn't be just fantasizing these stories, I'd be living them.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

A Losing Hand

Cujo sat on the cabinet by the entrance; watching, waiting. Surely, the tall one would come back?

Being a cat, he couldn't really count the days but, it seemed a long time since his friend had been here to talk to him and scratch him behind his ears. He'd whispered something to him when he left.

His understanding of human language wasn't that great. He did know what some of the words meant: 'friggin' cat', 'little bastard', 'buzzsaw', he knew those meant the loud man who waved his arms a lot was angry. Oh well . . .

...

Steve lay quietly in his hospital bed. _ Dammit all to hell, Danny was right; I am a trouble magnet._

He'd only accompanied Stella on a trip to the local supermarket to pick up some groceries when that kid grabbed the shoulder strap of a purse large enough to conceal a family of rhinos.

Steve had noticed a lot of older women and, now, some of the younger ones carried gigantic satchel like handbags. The girls sometimes carted around small, rat-like, dogs in them. He liked dogs but, he wasn't sure if the little creatures actually qualified as canines. What the older women carried he had no idea . . . maybe a grandchild or two?

He was angry at himself. He'd fucking fainted . . . fainted! Now he was back in the damned hospital.

"Steven?" came a voice that jolted him from his rumination on the contents of female's pocket books and his own disappointment in himself.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to startle you. You had such a puzzled look on your face. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Uhh, no, nothing but, thanks for asking" he smiled. "It's OK, they're still giving me some pretty strong drugs. Makes my mind a little fuzzy."

"Other than this fuzziness, how are you feeling?"

"Good. I'm good." he lied, "The drugs are really taking care of any pain. I should be ready to get out of here soon." His ribs felt like he'd been kicked by a mule instead of a sixteen year old purse snatching punk. He really had lost his edge. Even though he'd gotten the purse back, being taken out by a kid was embarrassing.

How that scrawny kid managed to actually kick him hard enough to finish cracking a rib, he didn't know. He really had to get back into shape. That was just pitiful. His ribs hurt like hell, especially when he coughed.

Stella just stared at him as though she could see right through his charade of good health. She put her hand on his forehead and frowned.

"Steven, you still have a fever. Does the doctor know?"

"Oh, yeah, I mean yes ma'am. They've upped the antibiotics to take care of it" he said, gesturing toward the bag of milky fluid that hung from a hook above him with tubing that traveled to the IV cath just below his collar bone. I'm fine, honest."

"Yeah, sure you are." scoffed Stella; sounding unnervingly like her shortest, oldest child.

He just looked innocently back at her, a crooked smile on his face.

"A fever isn't good. Why would you do something so foolish, Steven? You're not in good enough condition to go fighting with purse snatchers right now. I know you're a SEAL but, not right now. Right now, you're an injured man who needs to recuperate and rest and eat!"

_Damn, she sounds just like Danny_, he thought; except of course, she left out the part where he gets called a fucking idiot.

Just then, the door opened again and Augie came in. He took one look at his overly animated wife, gave Steve a sympathetic nod and smile, then turned and walked back out the door. The man was no fool.

Steve just sat in bed and looked contrite. Eventually, he nodded at what he thought were the appropriate places and repeated a phrase here and there: "Rest, right. Doctor, uh huh." and tuned out the rest like he did with Danny. The routine was familiar and comforting. He kind of missed the little man's rants. For now, this would have to do.

...

His blood felt like it had sand in it; sluggish and slow moving; grating past his joints. He hurt all over. His fever had gotten higher and his head ached even more painfully than the rest of his body.

He stared at the grey, gloomy light coming through the window. He was so tired of being an invalid. Those couple of weeks in the hospital at Quantico were bad enough. Coming home and having to endure everyone's concern, well intentioned though it was, just further aggravated him, though he knew he should just take it and be grateful.

Now, he had to be on his good behavior no matter how he he felt. He didn't want to offend Danny's family. He didn't want to jeopardize his status as its newest member. In spite of his annoyance at being nearly smothered by their care and concern, he wouldn't risk pissing off the only people in the world besides his 5-0 family who seemed to give a damn about him.

Even if he had to get physically trashed before finding them, it felt kinda nice.

Angie reappeared, carrying her latest paper cup of vending machine coffee. He'd never seen anyone drink so much of it. The woman's blood type, instead of being listed as merely type A or B positive/negative or whatever, should also have the designation mild, medium or dark roast.

"Hey, Super SEAL! Good to see you awake!" she greeted him, using Danny's name for his best friend . . . well, he'd been called worse. "You know, you're cute and all but, it's just kind of boring watching you sleep."

"Sorry" he said smiling at her; admiring her dark hair and long lashed hazel brown eyes. He appreciated her fresh, clean beauty. She sort of reminded him of Cath. _Who knew D could be genetically linked to someone like this?_

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?"

"Are you kidding! If Ma or Danny knew I'd left you alone, they'd have my head. Besides, I kinda like you in spite of your association with my brother. You're the strong, silent type and, believe me, silence is at a premium in my family." she smiled, showing lovely white teeth.

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that. How does your dad fit in?" he chuckled, referring to the quiet, thoughtful Augie Williams.

"Isn't he a hoot in a handbasket?" she laughed. "His hair could be on fire and he wouldn't let out a peep. He'd just chew on his pipe and calmly go look for the garden hose. You're right, if we didn't look so damned much like him, I'd say we were all adopted."

He smiled again at the dark haired woman just before another fit of coughing put him through the wringer once again. When it was over, he lay back on the pillow with eyes closed, trying to catch his breath. He felt a cool cloth placed over his sweaty forehead.

...

Though they'd uncovered nothing to identify the unsuccessful spy, the afternoon had passed quickly. They'd rounded up the two dumb-ass crank cookers who'd managed to blow up the makeshift lab they'd set up in the middle of Ahupua 'a O Kahana State Park. Danny was just glad he only had to go there, not pronounce it.

The explosion had started a small fire which was brought under control after burning only a few acres of the surrounding area.

An intact wallet with ID was recovered from the wreckage. They only had to go to the address listed on the driver's license of one Keanu Lee and found their slightly singed suspect and his accomplice coating themselves with aloe and first aid cream. After a brief stop at the hospital, they'd been booked without incident. It was almost boring.

They even had time to deodorize the SUV but left all the windows down just in case the smell wasn't gone for good. McGarrett rarely had occasion to drive the vehicle so even if it wasn't up to passing the smell test when he returned, they'd probably be safe enough.

It was time to pick up Cujo at the Pampered Paws Salon slash Cat Wash. Kono had begged off, or should it be said, flat-out refused to collect their now de-skunked little charge. In her opinion, she'd already gone above and beyond by sacrificing a tank top and a pair of shorts to the cause.

"It's time for Danny to 'man-up' and shoulder his responsibility for allowing the popoki to get out in the first place." she laughed, (maybe a little too brightly).

The SUV, with Chin driving, pulled under the shade of a gigantic ficus that shaded the front of the small, brightly painted building housing the pet salon.

A different person greeted them at the front desk. Chin thought maybe this wasn't a good sign. _Where's the Filipino kid? . . . in the hospital? . . . the morgue?_

This receptionist, a compact, pouffy haired blonde woman smiled at them as they entered. With her bouffant hairdo, she looked like one of her salon's clients.

_There must be a poodle somewhere who'd provided inspiration,_ thought Danny.

"Be right with you." she said as she finished filling out the work order for the neatly dressed, middle-aged owner of the shaggy Airedale that cowered behind his legs.

"OK, that's a bath, clip, pedicure and massage for Jasmine." she confirmed as she came around to the front of the desk and he handed her the unfortunate Jasmine's leash.

"Come with me sweetie." she said to the animal who looked up at her owner pleadingly as though wanting to be rescued from what lay ahead, massage or not.

After a brief moment, she came back out and finished collecting the fee for the dog's appointment. From what Danny witnessed, it was about half a month's rent on that closet of an apartment he'd recently vacated.

Then it was their turn. Chin said, "We're here to pick up a cat."

"Oh" she said brightly, "That sweet little grey cat."

"There's obviously some mistake. I don't think we're talking about the same animal here." Danny spoke up. "I don't think you'd call that fu. . . uhh, piranha, sweet."

"We only got the one cat in today." she said, looking puzzled as she tapped away at the computer keyboard that was set on the small platform on the other side of the desk.

"Let's see . . . That would be Cujo McGarrett?"

"Uhh, yeah" said Danny as Chin smiled at the salon's method of keeping track of their client's names. While it actually made sense, it still amused him.

"I'll have Armando bring him out for you" she chirped. "How could you give such a sweet animal such a scary name?"

"You mean Cujo or McGarrett?" - Danny just couldn't resist.

The blonde woman just laughed and went through the swinging door into the back.

Danny wrinkled his nose at the odor that permeated the humid air of the salon. Though it was tempered by the smell of coconut and mango scented shampoo, it was still 'eau de wet dog'.

They could hear the barking of at least four or five of the salon's clients as the door swung open and Armando appeared; carrying a very shiny and fluffy grey cat in his arms. Cujo didn't seem fazed by it all. He didn't even react to the barking. He just looked back at them calmly, even smugly, thought Danny.

Chin reached to take the cat from Armando as Cujo calmly accepted the transfer. Chin nudged Danny who looked at him questioningly.

"Tip" he mouthed as Danny caught on and, at the same time, spied the thing that now adorned the collar of the fierce little creature they'd come to collect.

"A pom-pom!" he practically yelled at the little animal. "You let them put a pom-pom on you! A purple one! What the hell's wrong with you!"

Danny was beginning to wind up for a rant at Cujo McGarrett, his hands already beginning to whip about.

"Danny!" warned Chin in a low voice as he could feel the sleek little body in his arms begin to tense. "Just give the man his tip. We'll wait in the car."

With that, Chin took himself and his furry friend out the door.

"I really don't know why you gave him a name like that." said Armando, "He's really sweet. He even seemed to like the water."

Danny couldn't even find the words for a reply. He handed Armando a hefty tip.

_Of course he likes water . . . he's a freakin' McGarrett!, _thought the little man as he followed Chin and Cujo out the door.

...

Steve and Angie were playing blackjack with the well-used deck that one of the nurses had scrounged for them. So far, Angie was ahead and her opponent owed her two six packs of Fat Bastard Ale, a Navy SEAL T-shirt and a steak dinner.

Steve chuckled, saying that he'd have to call it quits before he hadn't enough money to get home to Hawaii. Besides, it was getting toward evening and he admitted he was pretty tired.

Though he didn't say it, he was actually exhausted. His skin felt raw. Fever always made him feel that way but, it had to be pretty high before it gave him that sensation that felt almost like a bad sunburn.

Angie looked at him worriedly. "Steve, you don't look so good. You're really pale but your cheeks are red and your eyes, lovely though they may be, look like you're coming off a bender. You OK?"

"That's about how I feel." he said, "Like the ass end of a really, really, bad morning after."

It was nice he didn't have to watch his language around Danny's tougher than leather sister. She'd already called him a 'fucking cheating snake' when he'd pulled a card that gave him black jack for the third time in a row without having to ask for any additional cards in any of the three hands. That was earlier in the game and she'd more than made up for it as evidenced by what he had to pay up when he got out of the hospital.

She noted the grimace and his greenish cast as he set his cards down on the tray and closed his eyes.

"You gonna hurl?" she asked in alarm

"Not yet but, could you get someone? I really feel like crap and I think I'm supposed to be feeling better, not worse." he said as he pressed the call button that didn't guarantee anyone would ever show up. He'd learned early on, this hospital seemed to be understaffed.

"Sure thing, I'll go get someone to come check on you." said Angela, leaping up to go look for a nurse or doctor; whoever she could drag in here.

Steve closed his eyes again as he felt the room beginning to spin around him. His stomach was threatening to rid itself of anything he'd eaten in the last few hours, which wasn't much, food didn't seem to be too appealing.

The 'sand' feeling had intensified and he felt barely able to move like something was pressing him into the bed. His chest ached like crazy. Something was definitely going on. He just didn't feel right.

...

Cujo sat looking back at them from the middle of the smart table. He seemed to have acquired a very self-assured; even haughty attitude upon his return from the salon.

He looked rather proud of the lavender pom-pom attached to his collar. Steve had put a very plain, black nylon safety collar on him and the touch of color was very nice, thought Kono.

Danny just shook his head in disgust. The cat had made him sound like a hysterical jerk. The little piranha hadn't even _tried_ to take a chunk out of his groomer. The blonde detective thought the land dwelling barracuda had planned it that way just to embarrass him.

"Kono, get that stupid thing off his collar please." said an annoyed Danny Williams.

"Aww, I think he's proud of it." laughed Kono, "He thinks he's pretty fly."

"Yeah, I think purple's his color, brah." said Chin dryly.

There was no doubt the color looked nice against the animal's silvery coat but, Danny just shook his head. _Great, a cat with a sense of fashion. I guess we should be glad he's not wearing cargo pants._

"You little traitor! You're actually a 'normal' cat around everyone else but, you seem to think I'm your own personal chew toy. That's just . . . " The little detective couldn't even think of the appropriate words to use. He finally settled on "That's just . . . just . . . diabolical!".

"Watch it Danny, you're gonna piss him off. You know what happened last time!" warned Kono who was recalling the latest incident of attempted 'Dannycide'.

The cat had taken offense to being locked in the supply closet which Danny had insisted was purely an accident. When he'd heard the scratching and meowing to be let out, With the scream of a banshee, Cujo burst out the door and chased the detective down the hallway.

Danny had made it to his office just in time to slam the door before the cat could draw blood. Cujo patrolled the hallway for nearly an hour, waiting for the blonde man to open the door so he could exact his revenge.

Kono had effected a rescue when she returned from lunch and lured the furious feline away with a can of tuna. She had no doubt Cujo's tuna jones would make the him not hesitate in the least to slit their throats for it. He was like a junkie without a fix so it wasn't offered very often.

Even Steve had been nipped on the ankle when he'd not been fast enough spooning it into a bowl one day they'd run out of canned cat food and had to substitute tuna.

Kono had sucked in her breath when she'd seen the little scuffle and heard Steve's yelp as the needle sharp teeth sunk in just above the top of his boot. She expected Steve to do a ninja-SEAL thing in automatic defense and the aggressive little fur-ball would, voluntarily or not, be flying across the office.

Instead, Steve had just laughed and warned the cat not to take another shot at his ankle as he set the can of fish on the floor; not even bothering to dump it into the dish.

_The things people will put up with from their pets!_ she thought as she'd retreated to the kitchen.

Her boss could kill someone a hundred different ways and she'd witnessed a couple of them in battles when they'd faced adversaries who had no intention of letting their opponents live.

Steve was so focused and downright scary when taking down the bad guys but, he was so gentle and sweet with the feisty little cat. 'Go figure' as Danny would say. The obvious bond between the SEAL and the fierce little stray was touching.

It was nice to see that their BAMF boss had another side to him. Of course, few people ever saw it other than maybe Gracie but, that was still an adult and child interaction. With Cujo, Steve himself was the child.

When he didn't know anyone was watching, she'd seen the sweet, gentle side of him she always suspected was there. He looked so much younger when his face relaxed as he laughed at the cat's antics when trying to catch a string trailed across the desk or comically tumbling in his zeal to catch a toy mouse or a ball.

She wondered if the basic sweetness of her boss's nature had been so damaged by the harsh circumstances of his life, there was only this small bit of it left. She suspected very, very few people even knew it existed.

"Traitor!" said Danny one last time and walked away in disgust. He'd just gotten back to his office when his phone rang. He almost didn't answer it. He could see from the ID that it was his mom's cell. He was too annoyed right now to listen to a lecture on his diet and how he needed to exist on something other than pizza and beer. He didn't want to hear for the umpteenth time what a nice boy Steve is.

Finally, he couldn't ignore it. He picked up the phone and answered. "Hi, Ma".

"Danny, I'm so glad you picked up. Listen, honey, I have some not very good news about Steven."

"What? What did Steve do?" asked Danny already dreading an answer that would include the words 'gun' or 'explosion'.

"He'd not doing very well. Angie just called from the hospital. His fever's gotten higher and it looks like the antibiotics aren't taking care of the pneumonia. Oh, Danny . . . I'm so worried." she nearly whispered.

Danny was stunned. His stubborn partner couldn't do _anything_ the easy way. After enduring God knows what in some hostile foreign land and coming home half dead . . . to be taken down by a punk and pneumonia for chrissake! This shouldn't be happening.

"Ma, give me the name of his doctor. I'm listed as Steve's next of kin. I want to ask what the hell's going on."

"I haven't seen his doctor since yesterday. He's not in the hospital right now. Just a minute Daniel, the number's in my purse. Let me get it."

He heard some rustling as his mother was probably rummaging through her gigantic hand bag looking for the doctor's card.

"Here it is. His name's Peter Ingstad. He's a pulmonologist; the one Dr. Klein referred Steven to."

"OK Ma, I'll call him right now. I'll call you back in a couple of minutes."

Both Chin and Kono had wandered in after hearing their boss's name and noticing Danny's troubled expression as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call.

"What's going on Brah?" asked Chin

"Steve's gotten worse. Looks like the pneumonia's gotten really bad."

"What!" said the Hawaiian girl in alarm. "I thought he was improving! What happened?"

"Calling his doctor now." said Danny and held his finger up to request silence as the phone was answered by an official sounding woman with a slight tinge of the South in her voice.

"Doctor Ingstad's office. May I help you?"

"This is Detective Danny Williams of Five-0, I need to speak to Doctor Ingstad."

"I'm sorry, Detective Williams, Doctor is on teaching rounds right now. I can have him return your call in a couple of hours." she was actually thinking, _What the heck is a Five-0?_

"I need to speak with him NOW!." barked Danny.

"As I said, he's teaching right now." said the voice in a little less friendly tone. She was sort of getting used to the aggressive way people could sound in this part of the country. A call could be about anything from a hangnail to a heart-attack and the callers always upped the aggression whether the issue was an emergency or not. She was getting tired of dealing with these people. It was time to move back to Atlanta.

Danny was winding up to blast the woman who'd had the misfortune to answer the phone.

"Look! I don't care if he's teaching Oprah to perform brain surgery! I need to speak with him now!"

Chin took the phone from him, putting his hand up when Danny looked at him murderously as the Hawaiian brought the phone to his mouth.

"Hello?" this is Lieutenant Kelly of the Honolulu Police Department. This is official police business and it's an emergency. If you doubt it, I can have the Governor's office on the line in a minute."

That seemed to do it. The woman knew when to throw in the towel.

"One moment, Lieutenant, let me get him on the line."

Chin handed the phone back to Danny who mouthed, "Show Off" even though his worried expression never changed.

There was a brief pause and then a deep voice answered, "This is Doctor Ingstad, with what can I help you Lieutenant Kelly?"

"This is actually Detective Daniel Williams, I'm the Lieutenant's colleague. This is about one of your patients; Steven McGarrett."

"Yes, the Commander. I just took a call from the hospital where he's being treated. I'm just finishing up here and will be there within the next twenty minutes to check on him. I really can't divulge any medical information about my patients to the police, I'd need permission to do so from the patient himself or the patient's next of kin."

"I'm Commander McGarrett's next of kin. If you doubt me, I'm listed on his records and also as one of the contacts. I have his medical power of attorney if necessary."

Chin and Kono looked at each other, wondering when this had come about though it made sense. Danny was usually a lot closer than Steve's sister, Mary. They'd have to track her down in Los Angeles if there was an emergency involving their reckless boss.

"OK, detective, I'll take your word for it . . . for now. This had better not come back to bite me on the ass."

"Don't worry Doc. My only concern is for the commander's well-being."

The doctor sounded as though he was walking while conversing. Danny could hear the chime of a car door alarm and then the sound of it slamming shut.

"Commander McGarrett's condition has deteriorated in spite of the heavy-duty antibiotics he's been on. His fever's up dangerously high. His oxygen levels aren't good which means his lungs may be seriously compromised. We may have to put him on a respirator to help him out. He's having to work much too hard to get oxygen. It's a strain on his heart and his system in general.

Ingstad continued, "For whatever reason, he doesn't seem too resilient right now. I'd expect someone of his age to be able to fight a little harder. I did notice that the commander had some scarring and bruising that can't be explained by the incident that put him in the hospital. He's also thinner than I like my patients to be. He has nearly no body fat at all and has no reserves from which to draw. He should be doing a lot better than he is. We've got to find out what may be hindering his recovery."

"Thanks for being so honest Doctor Ingstad", said a calmer though no less worried Danny Williams. It's a long story about the previous injuries and yeah, we've been after him to gain some weight."

"I'll need to access his medical history and specifically, the records on his recent injuries. It may give us some insight as to why he's not improving. Please contact my nurse and give her the information so we can request his file."

"I'll do that as soon as we hang up."

"Listen, detective, I'm just pulling onto the parkway. I should be at the hospital in about ten minutes. I'll call you with an update after I've examined the commander."

"Thanks Doc. I'll be waiting for your call."

His stomach was in a knot as he looked at Chin and Kono bleakly. Taking a deep breath, he filled them in on what was going on with their boss and friend. He wished Joe was here. He was probably going to have to get Cath involved. The Navy was tight lipped about anything to do with their SEALs and their missions. Cath knew about Steve's injuries but was stationed somewhere in the Gulf.

_Dammit, Steve!_ he thought as he scrolled through his contacts for her number. He'd made Steve give it to him when he was in Halawa. Danny promised not to ever use it unless it was a dire emergency. This would certainly qualify.

He was also dreading his call to his mother. She's a strong person. Hell, she'd raised five rambunctious children and gotten them through their illnesses, accidents and the sometimes disastrous results of their youthful stunts. This time would be no different; she'd be there for Steve as well.

...

Cujo wandered in and sat in the doorway; looking at them sadly. The pom-pom now dangled forlornly from the collar that had that stupid jingle bell on it as well. Danny was actually the one who'd insisted on making the furry piranha wear it so, at least, he'd have some sort of warning when he was about to be ambushed by the 'spawn of Satan'.

He'd also suggested Steve wear one as well, considering his penchant to wander off when there was paperwork to do. To say the least, the suggestion wasn't well-met and Danny had to scoot out of his partner's office in a hurry.

The cat had soon figured out how to creep around without making it jingle. That was how he'd managed to get by Danny to escape the other night. No amount of bribery or threat could make him come back into the building. Danny tried his best but, after chasing the little asshole around in the dark for nearly an hour, he'd given up in disgust.

He hoped McGarrett's wolverine had learned his lesson about what could befall him out of doors and to not go about antagonizing one of those fluffy, black and white 'kitties'.

Danny thought that next time, he'd just taze the little fucker and drag him back inside. He wondered how many volts a seven pound hairball could take without croaking. It was something he'd have to ask Max. He was good at figuring out that stuff.

He ran his hand through his hair and stared back at the forlorn looking feline.

"Don't worry, Steve will be back soon." Danny didn't know why he was talking to a cat but, he hoped Steve wouldn't make him a liar.

...

The next couple of days were tougher than usual. Though the phone ran constantly, each time made them jump from nerves. It could be news of their, now, critically ill boss.

He'd slowly been losing his battle with the pneumonia. The navy hadn't cooperated with the civilian doctor. He hadn't been able to obtain any information on the commander's previous injuries.

Danny had called Cath. He didn't want her to worry but, Steve's doctor needed whatever help he could get with coercing the Navy to release information.

A day later, Doctor Ingstad had been surprised when he found a large envelope on his office desk. It had no return address but contained some medical reports on one of his patients . . . McGarrett.

There were many, many, redacted portions with thick black lines obliterating the words. Most of the pertinent medical information was there though and someone had handwritten a note with only three words, 'South American rainforest'.

Ingstad suspected whoever'd written the note had taken a big chance giving him that information but, it might provide a key to the treatment of the commander's illness. The doctor fired up his laptop and began his research.

...

He sat staring morosely at the water splatting in wind driven waves against the windows of Five-0's HQ. He had to get back to Steve. Ingstad's nurse had called to tell him they were considering putting him on a ventilator. She tried to mollify his concern by saying it was only a precaution and would ease the commander's breathing enough so he could get more rest.

Danny knew it was the first step in a downhill battle. He had to get back to his friend. He couldn't let him die alone so far from home. He pulled himself back with a start. Steve wasn't going to die! Not from this. SuperSEAL should go out in a blaze of glory, guns drawn to battle bad guys, not gasping for air in a crummy hospital in New Jersey.

Hell, Steve would haunt him forever if he died in Jersey. Danny had to go to him and bring him home.

The detective had to trust his team to follow up on the clues or lack thereof. McGarrett had chosen well. There were no dim or unmotivated bulbs in Five-0's chandelier.

Lori dropped him off at the airport. He had to get back to Steve. Leaving him in New Jersey, even though nearly the entire Williams clan was there for him wasn't an option.

The flight to Newark was interminable.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**Continued good thoughts to Mr. O'Loughlin**


	10. Lost and Not Found

Chapter 10

**Sincere apologies for the long wait to update. I know some of you brave writers have soldiered on with dreadful injuries and illnesses . . . you know, like the postal service's pledge about neither snow nor sleet keeping them from their appointed rounds, etc. Well, I'm not one of those people. I caught some sort of industrial strength crud and it knocked me on my ass for a few days. I suppose I'll have to look at it as research for medical stuff. Anyway, all better now. I can breath again.**

**Not much humor in this chapter, just lots of worry. I figured getting something out there was better than nothing. Will try to be funnier in the next update. Thank you all for the reviews alerts and favorites which I may not have replied to yet. Again, apologies.**

**Disclaimer: Still no fame or fortune**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Lost and Not Found

As soon as the big jet touched down in Newark and made its way to the gate, Danny was off to meet Angela at their prearranged place outside the doorway to baggage claim and they were on their way to Saint Barnabas hospital.

Angela glanced over at her solemn brother in the passenger seat as she expertly guided the big Lincoln along the slick roads toward the hospital.

"He'll be OK, Danny. He's stronger than he looks."

"Yeah but people don't know he's more fragile than he looks too."

"You mean the nightmares?"

"Yeah, you know about them?"

"He's staying in yours and Matty's old room. It's right next to mine and the walls aren't that thick. Are they usually this bad?"

"He won't tell me really but, when I was sleeping on his couch for those few weeks, yeah. He'd wake me up sometimes several nights in a row with his yelling."

"He's got a lot of baggage, Danny."

"Yeah. Someday, it's gonna get him killed." said the blonde man sadly as he stared at the slushy landscape visible through the passenger window.

"He's quite a guy."

"Yeah, the best one I've ever met besides Dad."

"Hey! You fuckin' idiot!" yelled Angela to the driver of a red Toyota as it cut her off and she had to swerve to avoid a collision.

The driver flipped her the bird as Lieutenant-to-be Angela Williams almost wished she was behind the wheel of a black and white right now. She'd guarantee the asshole would pay better attention to his driving!

Danny wasn't in the least surprised by his sister's outburst. It's how one drove in this part of the country, by wheel, voice and finger.

"You know" smiled Angela devilishly without missing a beat, "Other than a little bit of experimentation when I was younger, I'd never considered boys."

"You're saying you're considering Steve?" asked Danny, shocked beyond belief at his sister's revelation as he turned to fully face her.

"No, I'm saying that if I were to consider them, here's a guy I'd be tempted to change teams for."

Her brother only stared at her open mouthed.

"Don't worry, Bro. Not ready to jump ship yet." she laughed softly at her brother's almost cartoonish expression of shock. "Does he have any sisters?"

Danny smiled in relief. "You had me worried for a minute Wonder Woman. Yeah, he's got one sister, Mary - she's cute but, you think _he's_ got baggage!"

"Apparently, that's never stopped me before." smiled Angela ironically; referring to her recent break-up with the woman she'd have bet she would spend the rest of her life with until she came home early one afternoon to find her keeping company with someone else.

Her current living arrangement at her parent's house was due to being in the process of selling the house in which she and Nadine lived and jointly owned.

Danny realized his sister's animosity toward Rachel was probably fall-out from her own failed relationship. He always defended his ex but, he couldn't really blame Angie for her feelings.

After a nearly twenty minute drive on the slushy roadways, they arrived at the hospital. They pulled into the multi story parking structure and took the time-stamped stub from the machine at the entrance. After looking for a parking space for minutes that seemed more like hours, Danny said impatiently, "Angie, just drop me off at the elevators, I'll meet you up there."

"Dad's with him right now." said Angie to her brother as he bolted from the car and she pulled away to continue looking for the elusive parking space.

Danny Williams looked out at the gloomy grey landscape as the glass-sided elevator rose up the side of the huge building.

This had to be such foreign ground for his friend. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to kidnap him away to Jersey. Maybe the warmth of family can't make up for this fucking dismal place! The detective, at first, didn't seem to realize his perception of or allegiance to his here-to-fore sworn nirvana; this busy cosmopolitan place of his birth had changed. It suddenly hit him like a swing from a pipe wrench. He was lucky Steve couldn't read his thoughts, he'd never live it down.

The elevator dinged at the sixth floor and Danny let two older women get out of the elevator before he exited the glass box and quickly strode the long corridor toward Steve's room.

He knocked softly before pushing the door open and found his dad sitting quietly beside his fitfully sleeping partner.

...

It had been so long since he'd felt warm. Maybe this was heaven. The sun, a flaming ball suspended in the cloudless and impossibly blue sky warmed his body and soul.

He watched Mary making sand castles on the shore in front of him. The ocean sparkled behind her and the waves lapped peacefully onto the dark sand. When did Mary come home?

She looked just like she did when he said goodbye to her that day at the airport. The day his dad sent them away.

The difference was, she looked happy now. There was no pain in her eyes, no hurt or anger at being banished from her island and sent away to live on the mainland.

The warmth continued to soak into his tired body. He'd been so cold for so long. He was cold all the time now. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt warm.

Another small figure appeared and happily ran up to the half-built sand fortress. This new little girl joined Mary and was enlisted to shore up the fragile walls of the castle. Gracie? How did Gracie get here? Wasn't Mary a lot older than Grace? Right now, they both looked the same age. Strange.

Oh well, they'll have a good time playing together. He'd just have to make sure Mary didn't offer Danny's little girl a joint. Wait, she's still a little girl; why would his sister even be smoking dope?

It was his fault. He didn't watch her closely enough. He couldn't remember where his mom and dad were but, it was his job to make sure she was safe and it was his job to make sure Grace was safe. Danny trusted him to look out after his most precious thing in the world.

He looked up, startled when something blocked the sunlight. Behind the girls rose a wall of water hundreds of feet high. It was quickly moving toward shore. The girls were oblivious to it; laughing and giggling as they played on.

He called out for them to run but they didn't hear him. They continued their happy chatter and giggling. He yelled louder as he began to run toward them. The monstrous wave was getting closer. It seemed to gather all of the turquoise ocean around it into a towering monolith of dark blue.

He had to snatch them up and carry them away before it broke over them! His lungs burned from running. They hadn't seemed so far away. He'd been running and running and he still had a long way to go before he'd get to them. His chest hurt as his feet flew over the sand.

Then, he couldn't go any farther. He'd become mired in the wet sand that sucked at his feet and ankles. He struggled against its grip but, he was stuck; helpless to do anything.

No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't get loose. The sand wouldn't let him go to them. There was a deafening roar as the sunlight was now totally blotted out; he could feel the earth tremble with the water's frightening power.

He screamed as loud as he could and they still had no idea the wave had begun to crest and curl over them.

All he could do was scream for them to run. He couldn't do anything but scream.

...

Danny looked across his partner's writhing body to the man standing on the other side of the bed. The concern on his father's face mirrored his own.

Steve flailed out, trying to fight against whatever enemy threatened him. He murmured Mary's and Grace's names. Danny heard the word 'run'. He wondered what horrible thing Steve was trying to keep them safe from . . . Wo Fat?

"Shh, Steven, it's OK. Mary and Grace are safe. It's OK, it's just a dream." soothed Danny as he took Steve's hand in his.

Without waking, Steve continued to moan and mumble; twisting this way and that; thrashing enough that he was in danger of dislodging the IV lines and the leads to the monitors and whatever other medical paraphernalia encumbered him.

Angie joined them and disappearing for a moment, came back to run a cool cloth across Steve's flushed and sweaty face and neck. He felt so warm, Danny was almost surprised the water on the cloth didn't turn to steam as it contacted his skin.

Steve mumbled to the girls to run as his eyes continued moving frantically beneath the thin skin of his lids. They'd put an ice blanket over him awhile ago. In just the few hours it had taken to fly from Honolulu to Newark, Steve had gone downhill at an alarming rate.

A tall man in a white coat walked in at that moment frowning as he observed Steve's restless movements. The man nodded toward Danny as he picked up the chart from the slot at the foot of the bed. Danny could see the white coated man's expression didn't relax at all as he looked at the information recorded on the forms attached to the aluminum clipboard.

"Are you Detective Williams?" he finally asked as he set the chart back into its holder.

Danny nodded the affirmative telling the sandy haired man, "Commander McGarrett is my boss and partner on the Governor's Special Task Force in Hawaii."

"I'm Doctor Ingstad, we spoke several hours ago. You are a very good advocate for the commander. He has several people who are very worried about him. Actually, to be honest, they should be."

Danny's stomach knotted up as he looked at the alarmed faces of Angela and his father who stood on the other side of the bed.

"We need to talk." said Ingstad, gesturing for Danny to follow him out of the room.

Danny nodded toward Angela and Augie. The unspoken understanding between them that they would continue to stand watch until he returned.

Danny followed the tall man a little way down the corridor to a small alcove with a few couches and chairs. The detective recognized the decor. They could be in any hospital in the country and the vinyl furniture would be the same. Sometimes it would be aqua instead of the ugly burnt orange color that was in front of them.

_What idiot schooled in the 'art of ugly' created this hideous decor?_ thought Danny with that tiny, detached part of himself that wasn't scared shitless about his partner's well-being.

The doctor lead the way to the corner of the area and sat down heavily, gesturing for Danny to sit across from him. Danny was almost too nervous to sit. He perched on the edge of the plastic chair; leaning forward to place his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands between them.

"Detective, let me say one thing . . . your commander is a tough bastard. We can't get him to agree to the ventilator. He'd have been on it by now but he's refused to consent."

Danny smiled ironically. That was a perfect description of his friend . . . a tough bastard.

"Sounds like Steve." sighed Danny, running a hand through his now lank hair. He was seriously annoyed with the SEAL for refusing something that would obviously help.

"Actually, I believe his stubborness is the only thing that's kept him going so far. His system has been overwhelmed with something he's probably been fighting for awhile now. I know over the phone you'd mentioned that you've been on him to gain weight. Has he always been this lean?"

"Uhh, no, actually. He'd lost weight a few months back while on a mission. He's in the Naval Reserves and gets deployed every so often. Last time he went out, he came back quite a bit thinner and he's never really put it back on."

"Where was this mission?" asked Ingstad, seeking confirmation it was the one to South America.

Danny didn't give a damn right now about 'classified' but he had no information to give. "Steve never said where he'd been injured. He'd been gone for three weeks and when he'd come home, he looked like road kill. He had several broken ribs, a concussion and a damaged disk in his back. He'd also had a collapsed lung."

"This was how long ago?"

"About two months or so."

"He's got some injuries that look older than that. What happened before that . . . when he acquired what look like burn scars on his abdomen and possibly some kidney damage as well. Where was he?"

The detective didn't even hesitate; "Korea, North Korea".

Ingstad's eyebrows moved upward. He only nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks Detective Williams. I've got to go now. I've got some more research to do."

"Wait! What's going on with Steve? Why isn't he getting better?"

"Whatever caused the pneumonia has probably been with him for awhile. Whatever bug it is has waited around for the right time to replicate itself and cause real problems. The commander is young and, obviously, keeps himself in shape but, he should be doing better than he has. "

"He's been all over the world in the last few years, he's in the Navy. How long a time are we talking about?"

"There's no way of knowing for certain right now but, my guess is a few months; no longer than a year at most."

"Why did it take so long to get this bad?"

"It needed the commander to get to a low enough point in his immune system's capabilities. Once it took hold, it's been a losing battle. As I said, if your boss wasn't so tough to begin with . . . "

"What would cause his immune system to get so out of whack? Until very recently, he's always been more than healthy."

"Stress, injury, not getting adequate rest . . . stuff like that."

"Well, that's the trifecta of his life right now. As for the stress, that just comes with the territory. I know he hasn't been sleeping well for quite awhile. You already know about the injuries."

"The drugs he'd been given had slowed the infection down but hadn't eliminated it. We've got to pin it down to a specific cause and target it with more effective drugs. Until we know which bug we're dealing with, I don't see how the commander's going to beat this. Of course, we could always get lucky with trying different combinations of drugs . . . "

"He's been a little low on luck lately. I wouldn't count on it." said Danny darkly as he rubbed his hand across his stubbled jaw in frustration.

...

The little cat was restless. He'd lie down only to get up again within a minute or two. He prowled the office like a pint-sized panther. Kono watched him from across the hallway.

_He must be sensing something,_ she thought. Last time he'd been like this, it coincided with the day, if not the exact hour of Steve's injuries. They'd probably never know more than that. Her boss could only tell them so much without violating the damned 'classified' thing.

Cujo made his way to McGarrett's office; lightly hopping up onto the desk and disconsolately plopping himself in the middle of it. He searched around it as if looking for a clue as to where his friend went. Finding nothing, he sat down again and let loose a loud, forlorn howl.

Kono felt her throat tighten. She stood up to go to him; picking him up and cooing at him as she sat herself in Steve's chair. Cujo only looked up at her sadly.

_Cujo looks so sad. How can cats register such expression on their faces?_ she wondered as she clucked and stroked his soft fur. He wasn't purring.

She pulled out her phone to call Danny. She hadn't heard from the detective since he'd landed in Newark and checked in to see if anything of import had happened since he'd left the island.

Nothing unusual had gone on in the last few hours. Only the seasonal B&E's, and the stolen cars whose trunks were filled with holiday purchases. Though the malls were tightly patrolled, the thieves managed to do their share.

In a few more days, there'd be a spike in domestic disputes as the pressure of the holidays was compounded by the effects of its 'refreshments'. HPD was ready for it. It happened every year; inevitable as the brightly colored ornaments hung from the palm trees.

...

Dr. Ingstad rubbed his tired eyes before looking through the microscope one more time. He never knew there were so damned many tropical diseases that would exhibit the symptoms of weight loss, fever, tachycardia, a high white blood cell count and respiratory distress. There were just too many possibilities.

His patient was losing ground even as his doctor searched for a clue to his decline. As long as the commander could hang in there, he'd keep trying to isolate it. He'd already called one of his professors whose specialty was tropical diseases and was waiting for a call back. He hoped it wouldn't be long. His patient didn't have much time left.

Even if they knew what the cause was; would there be a drug available to handle it? Nothing had worked so far. The progression had been slowed but not eliminated.

...

"Anyone seen Cujo?" asked Kono as she stood in the middle of the situation room, hands on hips.

"Not for a couple of hours." answered Lori.

Chin only gave a negative shake of his head.

"He's usually asleep in Steve's out-basket at this hour. Have you checked there?" asked the slender profiler as she too began to sweep the office, looking for sign of the little animal.

"Nope, already checked there."

"Maybe he got locked in the supply closet again?" suggested her cousin.

"I'd better look, just in case." answered the worried woman.

"Careful. If he's in there, he's gonna be pissed." warned Chin.

"Danny's the only one he ever blames for the closet thing." smiled Lori as Kono strode to the janitor's supply closet.

"Just don't take any chances, Cuz."

Kono checked the closet, the cupboards in the breakroom, under everyone's desks, even in some of the half empty file drawers. There was no little grey cat to be found.

...

Dr. Ingstad came quietly into the room. He saw the detective sacked out on the chair next to his patient's bed. The blonde man had been here since yesterday. Others had come and gone, his patient was never alone. Ingstad wondered if he, himself, would warrant such devotion. He knew his ex wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. He didn't know about his kids. They _might_ look out after their old man but, he wouldn't count on it. They probably wouldn't even miss him until it came time for the tuition payment on their private school.

The tall doctor picked up the chart to look it over. Nothing had changed . . . at least not for the better. The commander stirred slightly as Ingstad moved the sheet aside and pulled down the neck of the hospital gown. There was a soft moan and a grimace as his patient stirred.

The detective startled awake at the sound of his friend's moan and sat up to look anxiously at Ingstad.

McGarrett hadn't come all the way awake, he seemed to lapse back into a restless sleep.

"How's he doing?" asked Danny softly, worry lines creasing his forehead.

"Not that great." said Ingstad bluntly. "His white cell count is higher, as is his temp in spite of the measures we've taken to bring it down." He held up his finger for silence as he pressed the stethoscope to his patient's chest.

"'s cold." murmured McGarrett opening his eyes and blinking as though trying to figure out who the hell was torturing him now.

"Try to go back to sleep commander" said the medic. This was as close to warm and fuzzy as he got. He'd been told his bedside manner sucked . . . it did.

"Been sleepin' too long." murmured Steve as he tried to sit up. Danny was up in a flash to push him back onto the bed.

"Do what the nice man says, Steven." he soothed.

"Jus' wanna sit up, dammit." said McGarrett crankily. _This being sick stuff sucks_, he was tired of it.

Other than injuries, some of them serious, some not; he'd never been this ill. Even as a kid, he hadn't been prone to the usual illnesses of childhood. He'd caught the 'important' ones like chicken-pox and the like but they'd barely slowed him down . . . much to the annoyance of his mother as she pursued him with thermometer and calamine lotion.

"We'll raise the bed for you, just lay still." said Danny, pressing the button on the bed control. He could hear the raspy sound of his partner's breathing. It sounded labored and harsh. He knew this wasn't good.

Dr. Ingstad waited impatiently for the bed to come to a stop before he applied his refrigerated, (it seemed that way to his patient), stethoscope to McGarrett's ribs.

"Detective, could you please help the commander lean forward for a moment?"

Danny took hold of Steve's shoulders and helped pull him upright and lean forward as Ingstad placed the scope on his back. Just the motion itself brought on a fit of ragged coughing. Danny rubbed his hand over his partner's back in small circles, feeling the too prominent vertebra of his spine and the unrelenting heat of his fevered skin.

He watched Ingstad's face as he listened to the wheezing, noticing the crease between the tall man's brows deepen as he moved the stethoscope up and down his patient's back. "That's enough for now." he said abruptly.

Steve muttered "'bout time" between wheezing breaths.

Ingstad smiled at his patient's comment. He was amazed, considering the latest blood work and his own findings, the man was even conscious right now.

"We have to talk, commander." announced the doctor, motioning to the blonde man standing on the other side of the bed to leave them alone.

"You can say whatever you have to in front of my partner." wheezed Steve.

"Good." said Ingstad as he pocketed his stethoscope. "Your temperature is still too high, your pulse is still too fast and your white cell count is off the charts."

"So, I win the office pool?" faintly smiled the man in the bed.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"What does all that mean for Steve?" asked Danny worriedly.

"It means, he's not getting better in spite of the heavy duty meds he's been given. It means all this is becoming a strain on his heart, which for the moment, is still OK but, it's having to work way too hard. His oxygen saturation level is now borderline abominable as well."

"Is there something that will help?" asked the worried detective; noticing his partner seemed barely able to track the conversation.

"There is but, it's only temporary and I'm afraid the commander isn't going to like it much."

"The commander's right here." said Steve in an annoyed tone; waiting for his doctor to drop the other shoe.

"We've already talked about this once as a possibility, we have to put you on a ventilator. It will help you breath easier and lessen the strain on your body."

"No!" said Steve in a panicky rasp.

"Shut-up, Steven, if it will help, of course you have to do it."

"Danny!"

"Don't look at me for help with this one, I'm on the doc's side." admonished the detective with a faint smile. He'd expected this reaction from Steve. While being on a respirator was not something anyone would wish for, it was particularly difficult for Steve.

It was a terrible claustrophobic feeling for his partner. Unfortunately, they'd been through it before when Steve had been injured seriously enough to require assisted breathing but, in the past, he'd already been unconscious and had nothing to say about it.

"Commander, I have to be honest with you. This is only to buy time. Your condition isn't getting any better and we've got to find out what the hell's making you so ill. I've got someone calling me back sometime this afternoon who should be able to help me pin it down but, at the rate you're going, I'm afraid you may wind up with something we won't be able to help you overcome."

"Like what?" wheezed Steve

"Heart damage . . . and to be extremely blunt . . . your demise."

"Steven, it's OK, I'll be here. We're all here for you. We're not going to leave you alone. It has to be done." soothed Danny.

"Commander, if you don't cooperate, we'll just wait until you're so out of it you won't have a choice but by then, you'll have worsened your condition considerably."

"Shit" muttered the patient, knowing he'd have to give in.

...

"Danny please. I want to go home. Please . . . take me home." begged the distressed man, his pleas turning to incoherent mumbling as he fell back into his fevered darkness.

"Shh, Steven. It's OK. We'll go home soon. You just have to get a little better first. Just get better and I'll take you home."

Danny thought he heard his partner murmur "M'kay" but he wasn't sure. Steve's hair had grown longer and it was now plastered against his head with sweat. He studied his friend's translucently pale face; all sharp angles and planes, his skin seemed to be stretched too tightly over his bones. Even Stella Williams' cooking and care couldn't keep up with it.

He sat in the plastic chair next to the bed, grabbing one of Steve's restless hands as he flailed in a fever induced nightmare.

Danny heard a soft knock and the door opened to reveal Angie coming quietly into the room.

"How's he doing?" she asked softly, taking a chair on the other side of the bed.

"Not that good, Ange. I'm really worried."

The man in the bed shifted restlessly, mumbling something about 'the mission'. Danny brushed the damp hair back from his forehead, shushing him and telling him it was OK, he was safe now.

His breathing had become even more labored and he seemed to drift in and out of sleep. Danny could no longer tell when Steve was actually awake and speaking to him or an unseen someone in his tortured mind.

One time, he'd sat up in bed to look Danny directly in the eye and asked "Did you let Cujo out? You know he's supposed to stay indoors when he's at the office. It's not safe for him out on the streets at night."

"No, Steven. I didn't let him out. He's safe here in the office. You just get some rest."

"Where is he? I think he's lost. I have to find him!"

"No, no. Cujo's safe. He's with Kono and Chin. You know they wouldn't let him out on his own. It's OK, your little buddy is safe. He's probably chewing a hole in someone's ankle as we speak."

"OK, 's good."

With that, Steve lay back down and drifted off once again into restless slumber.

...

That afternoon, they put Steve on the ventilator; he was almost too out of it to even protest at this point.

"Steve, your oxygen levels are too low. You know it's time son." said Augie Williams softly. Steve was nearly struggling for breath now. Every inhale and exhale sounded painful and hard won. Steve nodded his head and Evelyn injected the sedative.

Ingstad had wasted no time in setting up the personnel and machinery to get his patient on the ventilator he should have consented to long ago.

Danny held Steve's hand long enough for the drug to take effect. He gave it one last squeeze when his friend's hand relaxed and became still and he set it back down on the bed and moved away for them to do their work.

"It would be best to leave now." said the nurse they'd come to know as Evelyn. She was tall and broad shouldered with striking features and dark auburn hair. Both Danny _and_ his sister had taken note of the woman.

"I promised him I'd be here." said Danny firmly as Augie Williams quietly left the room.

"Well", said Nurse Evelyn, taking in the blonde man's stony expression, "Just stay out of the way." and she waived him to the corner of the room.

The procedure didn't take long. The intubation was routine. It went quickly and smoothly_ . . . probably the only thing in a long while that went smoothly for Super SEAL,_ thought Danny.

He was allowed to approach the bed and once again picked up his friend's hand to hold it in his own. The ventilator kept up a steady rhythm, sounding far less tortured than breathing without it had sounded.

After a few more minutes, Evelyn took the oxygen readings and gave the blond man a thumbs up sign and a slight smile at her findings as she made her notes on the chart.

Danny looked down at a face that was relaxed, peaceful; maybe with a bit of color to it other than blue.

There was a soft knock on the door and Stella Williams quietly entered. She came forward to hug her son and held him tightly for a moment longer than necessary. She both gave and sought comfort in the embrace.

"How's he doing?" she whispered

"He's still holding on. The ventilator should help for now."

"How long will he have to stay on it?"

"No telling right now, Ma. It'll help him get some rest so he can be strong enough to fight this bug. They still don't know what it is."

Stella stood silently next to her oldest while gazing worriedly at her newest. She reached hesitantly to stroke Steve's forehead.

_He still feels so warm!_ she thought as her fingertips brushed his skin. She smoothed his hair back, neatening it and pushing the damp locks into some semblance of order. Steve never stirred.

Danny watched his mother soothe his best friend. _Dammit Steven you'd better not die! _he thought fiercely. It would break his mother's heart. She's already had one too many heartbreaks. No one had heard from Matty for months.

Steve had no idea how many people he'd affected; some, with his strength and decisiveness; some, with his sometimes awkward sweetness. If he didn't make it - many hearts would break.

Danny knew his own heart and that of his daughter would both be irreparably shattered. Grace and Steve had a special bond; one of playful conspirators against Danny's parental authority. Sometimes they were thick as thieves, plotting mischief. Danny knew Steve would die for Gracie; hell, he would die for any of them and they for him.

Did Steve even know? Does he know there are people who love him fiercely? People who would be devastated if something were to happen to him? Danny, somehow, didn't think so. Steve had been alone for so long, worrying about others for so long . . . how could he?

The few times Danny had roughly teased him about his relationship with Cath . . . Danny referred to it as 'friends with benefits', Steve had only shrugged saying he didn't know what to call it. He didn't know for sure how Cath felt about him.

_What the hell is wrong with these people!_ thought the detective.

...

This time, he wasn't taking any chances. This time, he would do this himself instead of leaving the rather mundane task to one of his incompetent 'assistants'.

Whether Five-0 had anything on them or not, he wasn't going to waste his time with spying . It was time to stop fucking around. They were as good as toast.

The new shipment was almost ready. It had taken weeks to replace the confiscated inventory. He'd be damned if the governor's pet task force was going to fuck it up for him this time.

McGarrett was on the mainland as was one of his detectives. He'd sent someone to take care of them. Someone he could actually trust to get the job done. The old saying is a true one . . . 'You get what you pay for'. Well, he'd paid for the best and McGarrett and his task force were as good as dead.

The last idiot he'd sent to Five-0's headquarters had come running back in terror with some preposterous tale of being chased by a demon.

When asked to describe this demon, the man could only speak of its fearful voice, yellow eyes and deadly teeth and claws.

True, Ricardo did have some interesting looking marks on his body. Long, deep, bloody scratches nearly everywhere and fang marks on his arms and legs. They resembled the damage he'd seen done by a jaguar long ago in the Honduran jungle but on a slightly smaller scale.

Surely, a housecat couldn't do that much damage. Could it? He put aside the thoughts of demons and jaguars and took a steadying breath. This time, it would be done right.

...

The air was damp and cool. There was no sign of his friend. He was sure he'd find him out here somewhere. He searched along the concrete walkway. He searched the cool grass and the leafy bushes that lined it. He sniffed the fragrant breeze. There was no scent of his tall friend. He would find him. He knew he was out here somewhere.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

**A couple of you have wondered if I'm writing about Mr. O'Loughlin rather than the character he plays. I would never be so presumptuous. This is just fiction. I admire Mr. O's courage and continue to wish him the best.**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter, if you'd be so kind.**


	11. Brunch With Skippy

Cujo II - Chapter 11

**Here's another. The next chapter is about half written and should be up within the next few days. RL can be so damned intrusive sometimes. I hate when it interfers with my fantasy life. Thank you for your reviews and comments, alerts and favorites. All are so very much appreciated.**

**Once again, I hope this isn't too choppy to follow. Let me know what you think of it. I value your opinions.**

**Disclaimer: I bought the island, the show and, even though slavery is illegal . . . the people. When the meds kicked in, reality once again bit me on the ass and I realized that I don't own any of it nor do I make any money from it. Bummer.**

_***5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0***_

Brunch With Skippy

Grayson put his hand on a bare shoulder that was like tan satin under his fingers. She'd changed out of her usual attire of tank and shorts to a slinky, off the shoulder, dress for tonight's date. He admired her slender form and dimpled smile.

_Such a waste, _he thought as he hugged her body against his side. If only he had more time. This woman was what he'd always wanted but just not now. Now, she was just a means to an end. The end of Five-0 - if everything worked the way it was supposed to. The guy he'd sent to New Jersey should be taking care of business there soon. He, himself, would take care of business here.

He'd come to pick up Kono so they could go to dinner after work. The slender Hawaiian woman was normally a head turner but in the dress, she was breathtaking. Her new boyfriend definitely appreciated what he was seeing.

Chin looked up from his computer screen and frowned at his cousin and her boyfriend as they got ready to leave. He hadn't warmed up to the guy. There was something about him he didn't trust. Danny and Cujo had felt it too. Kono, apparently, wasn't even aware that anything was off.

The guy was just too good to be true. He couldn't put a name to it but it was there. He hoped Kono would wise up but she was a big girl. He couldn't do anything about it. She'd only laugh at his concern, calling him 'overprotective'. Maybe he had been in the past but, she was his little cousin. Of course, he'd protect her. He still would. If she let him.

Looking across the room at the tight line of Chin's mouth, Kono was aware of her cousin's disapproval of her choice in men. Grayson was good looking, respectful, treated her well . . . what wasn't to like? She didn't understand Chin's reservations about the guy. Cujo didn't like him as well but Cujo didn't like a lot of things; dogs, other cats, most people, cheap cat food, (though he would try to eat any rodent, bug or reptile on which he could get his teeth. He'd even dug into the trashcan and drug out part of a two day old malasada. Steve had chased him for fifteen minutes to get it away from him and had been bitten for his trouble.

...

It was almost five-thirty in the evening when Ingstad's phone rang and the number he was hoping to see popped up on caller ID.

He pounced on it immediately, praying that Doctor Sabato had some useful information for him. McGarrett was barely holding on. His body was beginning to shut down. His kidneys were failing and this afternoon, he'd been put on dialysis. It was the beginning of the end for his patient unless something could be done quickly.

"Ingstad" he answered.

"Peter!" Glad you're still in your office! Sorry it took so long to get back to you. How's your patient?"

"Barely hanging in there, Tomas. If he wasn't such a tough bastard, he'd have checked out days ago."

"Luck may be with him then. I think there are a couple of possibilities for you to look at. Both are contracted by inhalation of a soil fungi. Does your patient have any mouth or throat lesions?"

"None."

"Is your patient HIV positive?"

"No, we've already checked that. When he didn't respond to treatment, it was one of the first things we looked at. His immune system isn't really that strong though. It had been severely stressed by previous injuries and exhaustion. As we'd already talked about, he's been all over the map, Asia and South America included."

"My guess would be brasiliensis. Fever, tachycardia, respiratory distress, weight loss and a high white blood cell count all fit. It doesn't always present with the lesions. If my diagnosis is correct, your patient has a chance. It responds well to some of the old standard drugs . . . nothing too hard to get hold of quickly."

"Excellent."

"You always were one of my star students, Peter; very thorough in your approach. Glad to see that hasn't changed. Your patient is fortunate to have you as his physician."

"Uhh . . . thank you." stammered Ingstad like a schoolboy who'd won the approval of his favorite teacher; not quite knowing how to respond.

"Well, let me know the outcome. Good luck to your patient. Bye-the-way, what's his name?"

"Steven McGarrett, he's head of the Governor of Hawaii's special task force and a Lieutenant Commander in the Naval Reserve. I believe he's one of their SEALS."

"What the hell is he doing in New Jersey? I wouldn't be stuck in your crummy weather if I could be in Hawaii right now."

"I'm sure, if he survives, he'll be very happy to go back home. Thanks again, Tomas for all of your help."

"Good luck to your patient, Peter. Glad I could help out."

...

The tall man was nowhere to be found.

He'd have to go to the place with all the sand. Maybe he'll be there. He could find it. It wasn't an unfamiliar route for the little cat. Of course, he usually traveled it on the dashboard of a car.

The dark street stretched before him as he padded soundlessly in the direction of the big water and sand where he'd find his friend.

...

Kono, Chin and Lori spread out to search for the Cujo. They were methodical; thoroughly searching each floor of the palace. When they let him, Cujo would sometimes haunt its halls hunting for prey. Everyone in the building knew of the feisty little animal and gave him wide berth.

At first, there was an almost unfailingly predicatable pattern of response to the cat - most of the women tried to make friends with him; most of the men seemed determined to intimidate and subdue him . . . neither approach worked very well.

They all knew he belonged to Five-0 and no one wanted to risk the wrath of the governor's task force. Kono thought it was cool but funny. People were so intimated by their reputation, (well, mostly Steve's reputation). Not that some of it wasn't deserved. The man could kill you with a ping pong ball, a paperclip, or just his bare hands. Kono considered him a teddy bear at heart; a sort of dangerous, lethal teddy bear but, usually, a mild mannered one.

Cujo's own reputation would keep most people from messing with him but the little cat was deceptive in many ways; a small, velvety soft and sweet expressioned little animal who wouldn't hesitate to chew his way through your leg if you pissed him off.

They had to find him before he got into trouble. He was very much like his chosen human . . . it just seemed to follow him.

...

In spite of the gloomy weather that had hovered for days over the eastern seaboard like a heavy grey cloak, Ingstad swept into the room; his step actually a bounce.

Nothing appeared to have changed; his patient was still lying tethered to the machines breathing for him and filtering his blood. His family still stood watch over him. The blonde detective still sat at his bedside.

The compact man stood as Ingstad entered; eyebrows rising in question at the doctor's grin.

"We think we've got it!" announced Ingstad before he'd even fully made it into the room; an uncharacteristic smile on his long face..

"Got it?"

"We may know what's making the commander so ill and why he hasn't overcome his pneumonia."

"Great, what are you going to do about it and wait . . . what do you mean _think_?"

"Detective, there's really no time to confirm the diagnosis with lab work. It would take several more days to replicate it with cultures in the lab. I'm afraid your commander is nearly out of time. His body is beginning to shut down, hence the dialysis. He's critical enough that there isn't a guarantee we can reverse the decline. If he wasn't even as fit as he was to begin with, he'd no longer be with us."

Danny nodded grimly in recognition of his friend's precarious condition, "So what are you going to do to treat him?"

"What we can do is put him on a regimen of drugs that should have an almost immediate effect and then another milder drug for a few months."

"A few months! He's gonna freak! What the hell did he catch?"

"It's an airborne fungi that primarily affects people in Central and South America. It not _that_ easy to catch actually. Your partner just got lucky."

"Yeah, when he gets off the ventilator, I'll be sure to tell him how lucky he is."

"Detective, if my former professor wasn't an expert, or shall I say _the_ expert, on tropical diseases, the commander wouldn't have the option to decide if he is lucky or not. We most likely would never have found the cause of his illness in time."

"Don't get me wrong, Doc. I appreciate what you've done and that you didn't give up and just let him die but watching someone whose picture you'd find in the dictionary under the word 'healthy' nearly die in front of you is just . . . " Danny raised his hands in a gesture that meant to convey helplessness. "It was fucking scary to see him this sick." he finally sighed, unable to think of any other words to adequately convey how he felt.

Ingstad only nodded in understanding. In spite of what others may have said about him, he became a doctor because he truly did want to make a difference in people's lives. Helping this, obviously, well-loved young man survive was incredibly rewarding. Though he was monetarily well compensated by his profession, it wasn't his reason for becoming a doctor.

It was one of the things that drove he and his ex to divorce. He thought his profession was about saving lives, she thought it was about saving enough money to buy the Taj-Mahal; then re-decorate it.

"How long before we know if the new drugs are working?" asked Danny, his worry which had begun to ease slightly with the encouraging news, ratcheting back up with the way the doctor couched his answer.

"If I'm right and if the commander has enough fight left, we should see a change within the next few hours. If all goes well, his temperature should begin to come down. We've given him large doses of drugs to counter the tachycardia but his heartbeat has remained probably twice what it should be for someone who, according to his medical records, was in exceptional cardio-vascular condition. The drugs are also stressing his kidneys but they're all we have to work with. It's a balancing act. I'm not going to guarantee this will work but, it's the best chance he's got."

Danny ran his hand through his hair again. Why couldn't there be good news without the caveat? Without the 'if I'm right'', the 'if all goes well', the 'I'm not going to guarantee' bullshit? Why couldn't they just give Steve the new meds knowing he would improve, not just hoping that his best friend would wake-up and leap out of bed to begin making the world safe again for little girls and kittens? Why did Steve have to be dying so far from his beloved Hawaii? Too many questions without answers.

Evelyn and another couple of people in scrubs who'd just come into the room began to disconnect the respirator as Danny automatically moved out of the way.

"Wait! What are you doing?" he asked in alarm. Ingstad had already left the room.

"We have to temporarily disconnect the ventilator and take him downstairs. We need to get some of that fluid out of his lungs and then we'll administer a good dose of meds directly into the breathing tube. It's the best way to get the process started."

"He'll be back in about an hour and we'll start the new IV meds." added one of the scrub clad men who unlocked the bed's wheels and began to push it toward the door.

Soothed Evelyn. "Why don't you go get something to eat? You must be exhausted, detective."

Danny looked into her warm brown eyes and saw only concern . . . for her patient and for him.

"Uhh, yeah. I'll do that. I have to call my family to let them know the news."

"This is good news for a change. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. Oh, and say hi to that cute sister of yours for me. She's been very worried." smiled Evelyn.

Danny smiled at her as she winked back at him. Maybe Angie did have a shot at the tall woman. He wasn't sure for whom the wink was intended. Right now he was too worried to think about it.

They wheeled Steve out of the room. The pale man didn't stir but without the ventilator assisting him, Danny could again hear the stressed, rattling sound of his breathing. He squeezed his partner's hand one last time as the bed was maneuvered out the doorway and down the hall to the elevator.

The worried man dialed his mom's cell and she picked up immediately.

"Honey, is Steve OK?" she asked before she'd even said hello.

"Actually, Ma, I may have _good_ news this time. We don't know for sure yet."

"What's happened?"

"They think they've found what's making Steve so sick."

"Think?" his mother immediately picked up on the word.

"Yeah, they're not a hundred percent certain and don't have time to confirm it with labwork but they're starting the new drugs now. They've just taken him downstairs to clear his lungs out some before they give it to him."

"When will we know if it's working?"

"The doctor said within the next few hours."

"Danny, I could see him getting worse. I was so, so worried. I had your dad to go Saint Benedict's and light some candles. I've been praying to Saint Jude with all my might . . . maybe it helped?"

"I'm sure Steve would appreciate it. He can use all the help he can get. It certainly couldn't hurt." smiled Danny at his worried mother.

Though Danny had been raised in his parent's faith and had even survived parochial school, Sister Marie Baptiste and a Mother Superior who'd have given Mrs. Ratliff a run for her money, he wasn't really devout. He'd said his own prayers in his own way for his friend's recovery but his mother's unshakable faith had sustained her through many crisies in the past. She's a strong woman who loves her family with every fiber of her sturdy little body. Steve couldn't have anyone better praying for his recovery, including Mother Theresa herself.

When Steve recovers, Danny would have to remember to tell him his mother was praying to the patron saint of 'lost causes'. He had to smile to himself at the reaction it would probably get from his friend. Danny had always called him a lost cause.

...

He was hungry. He'd gone up to several people and demanded food. Someone had given him a small piece of meat they'd taken from what they'd been eating. It was tasty; not as good as mouse but he purred when he ate it. The loud man at his other home had given him something like this a couple of times; usually just to get him to go away but, sometimes, when no one else was there, he'd give him treats. If only the man didn't wave his hands so much and wasn't so loud . . .

...

"What do you want Nadine!" he heard Angie hiss into her cell phone as she climbed the stairs to her room. He heard the phrase 'psychotic bitch' as her door slammed shut.

He felt bad for his sister. Tough as she is, her heart had been broken by the woman to whom she'd committed body and soul. He knew how it felt to be rejected by someone who meant everything to you; someone who was the very oxygen in your world.

Rachel hadn't betrayed him as Nadine had Angie but her rejection had almost killed him. If it wasn't for his family, (and later on - Steve), he'd never have made it through the darkness.

Matty, Anthony and Augie Williams had been called out in the middle of the night by more than one watchful bartender to come fetch the blubbering puddle of self-pity that was Rachel's bequeathment to them and they'd never forgiven her. If it wasn't for Gracie, they'd probably never even acknowledge Rachel had ever existed.

Family was everything. He was sad his sister had to lean so heavily on it. Moving back home to one's parent's home long after the usual age for such arrangements was humiliating but he knew she was grateful for the option.

He had to get back to the hospital. He'd only come home long enough for a shower and a quick change of clothing. His dad and Anthony were with Steve right now.

...

It was so dark. He couldn't make out the little shape in the dimness but he could hear the jingle of the bell attached to the little animal's collar.

Sometimes, when he'd worked late at HQ or at home when it was quiet in the middle of the night, he could hear that tinkling sound. It was such a small sound but so large in its meaning.

It meant he wasn't alone. It meant there was a being with which he had a connection; one who didn't judge him, criticize his way of interacting with the world and remind him of his limitations and awkwardness in 'mammal to mammal communications'.

He knew it was Danny's way of showing affection but he always felt there had to be some truth behind the snarky observations. Why would Danny say it if it wasn't at least somewhat true?

He could hear the jingle. Cujo was out there somewhere. He had to find him. It wasn't safe to be alone in the dark. He followed the sound. He still couldn't see the small, furry, body but he could hear the bell. He wouldn't give up 'till he found his friend.

Following the sound, he traveled further into the darkness. It wasn't good to be alone. It was scary to feel lost.

...

"Chin, what if we don't find him?" said Kono, worrying her thumbnail with her white teeth. They stood at the smart table with Lori, Max and Kamekona.

"We'll find him cuz. Look who we've got looking for him; all the resources of the governor's special task force." he smiled at her.

"Yeah, bruddah. If we can't find the popoki, no one can." assured Kamekona seriously.

"I hope someone hasn't picked him up." said Lori

"Who would possibly be that stupid?" asked Max who'd had his own experiences with the fierce little cat.

"You know how he appears." reminded Chin. "Soft, furry . . . deadly."

They all nodded seriously in agreement. Cujo seemed to dare people to pet him. He'd wind around their legs and look up at them with the innocence of a baby and when they'd reach down to pet him, he'd hiss and take a swipe at their hand. Danny asserted it was deliberate; just a trap; a lure set by the wily little predator to gather blood donations. They couldn't really argue with him. If did seem that way at times.

They'd actually taped a sign up in the office to warn people _'DO NOT PET THE CAT, (no matter what he says)!_

Cujo was indeed deceptive. If no one paid attention to him, he'd sometimes even jump up onto laps to get attention. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason in his choice of victims. So far, few except Chin and Danny had been actually bitten other than the late and unlamented drug lord, Karl Aguillera and his henchmen.

Chin was aware that even Steve had felt the wrath of Cujo a couple of times but, of course, if he could hide the marks, their stoic SEAL would never admit it. McGarrett and the cat had a strange bond. The cat was as incredibly protective of Steve as Steve was for any member of the team. Chin understood.

...

He saw them come down the steps. They spread out purposefully; the guy in jeans and Hawaiian shirt, the two women, a huge man in a T-shirt and shorts and a little guy wearing glasses.

He could hear them call out 'Here kitty, kitty' and 'Cujo!" As soon as they were out of sight, he stole up the stairs, careful to pull the hoodie tighter over his head to avoid a clear shot by the cameras he knew must be taping him.

...

He'd have to stop to rest. The place of sand and water where the tall man sometimes took him must be near now. He'd traveled all afternoon and through the night. He was tired and thirsty . . . and hungry. He'd chased a large, juicy, lizard a little way but when he'd cornered it against a block wall, it had turned and hissed loudly at him. _This was new._ With needle sharp claws extended, he raised an armed paw toward it and it hissed even louder . . . _hmm._

The stand off lasted another minute or two before Cujo decided perhaps a dinner that hissed was maybe not a good candidate after all. He chirped in frustration then backed carefully away before turning to abandon the hunt. Mice weren't so hostile . . . and they tasted better!

...

Slowly, Steve's temperature began to come down. Within two hours, it had fallen from 105 to 104. That was still way too high but at least it was going in the right direction.

Stella looked down at the sedated man and said another prayer. She hadn't been this worried since Augie had fallen off that ladder last fall and had lain unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. She'd told him to let Anthony and Andrew, take care of the lights this year. Usually Matty had helped his dad put them up but, not this year.

This year . . . there was no Matty.

She once again felt that dull, empty ache when she thought of her fugitive son. She tried to put it out of her mind as she looked down at the young man in the bed. _Perhaps The Almighty does work in mysterious ways_ she thought. Matty had left and here was another son she didn't even know she had. She knew he wasn't Matty but none-the-less, he was Danny's brother.

She took the cool dampened cloth and wiped his face and neck as the ventilator continued its steady and reassuring rhythm.

...

They'd been searching all afternoon and into the night. Chin and Kono had alerted all of their many relatives in the area. Lori and Kono had gone to check out a couple of leads on a series of holiday car-jackings. So far, no one had been hurt but, it was probably only a matter of time before a victim thought Auntie Kanoelani's new set of jacquard woven dish towels was worth a fight.

The bad guys seemed pretty organized. They'd netted several new laptops and a few other big ticket electronic items. This didn't appear to be opportunistic druggies out looking to score enough to get them by until their next fix.

Chin was feeling guilty for taking the time to search for the little cat. He could just hear the governor's comments on it but he'd put in his hours already and as far as he was concerned, this was being done 'off the clock' on his own time. He really didn't want to have to tell Steve they'd lost Cujo.

Even though his BAMF boss might be angry, even more, he would be devastated. Chin knew the sometimes overly-vigilant man trusted very few people. He'd trusted his team to look out for Cujo and they'd failed him.

Man and cat had a strong, unexplainable bond. _In some parallel universe_, thought Chin, _there must be a man named Cujo and a cat named Steve._

"Brah!" heard Chin as he answered his cell while his eyes roved the darkening landscape. It was his cousin Kanunu's voice. "Uncle Kokoa called! He said he just saw a grey popoki hauling ass down the street and trying to eat a dog!"

"Where?" asked Chin

"Out in front of his shoe store on Hala Drive."

"That has to be Cujo. What's the address there?"

"It's between Kapalama Avenue and Apaki Street on the south side in the middle of the block. It's call 'Big Momo's Shoe Stop'."

"Be right there, thanks cuz!"

Chin put on the lights and siren as he guided the SUV out of the palace's parking lot.

...

It was time for a nap. The sun was high overhead and it was making him sleepy. A nice little girl who smelled like flowers gave him food when he'd walked up to her as she was eating something that smelled really good. It was in paper that made a crackly noise as she unwrapped it. There was a woman with her who spoke sharply.

He heard the words 'stray' and 'rabies' as the woman seemed to be annoyed with the girl. There was a ringing sound and the woman turned and held a small black box next to her ear and seemed to be talking to it. The people at home did that too. He used to think they were talking to him but then he realized if he listened carefully, he could hear the box talking back . . . _hmm. _

The girl took that moment to take most of her food and set it down on the concrete beneath the bench on which she sat.

He went cautiously to it and then began to purr loudly as the taste of fish and cheese filled his mouth. A small hand reached down and stroked his back as he ate. He'd let her pet him for now, it was only polite.

The woman's voice was back. It said 'damned cat', (he knew those words), and then another word he didn't know the meaning of, 'expensive'. It sounded like the little girl was answering back defensively.

The woman sighed and leaned toward the girl to kiss her on top of the head and then they left. He was worried the woman would take back the food but they didn't. He finished it and then carefully washed his face and ears as his mother had taught him. He had to find a place to nap for awhile before continuing his journey.

_..._

Now was his chance. There was no one left in the office. He crept silently up the stairs, keeping his face hidden. He was careful not to jostle the small bundle he carried. Even though he knew it wouldn't explode without the timing mechanism attached, he was very careful with it. There was enough of it to blow the office sky high if not the entire building.

Five-0 had cost him enough time and money. He'd miss the company of the girl but, there were other girls. Maybe not one so intriguingly dangerous but - there were others. Anyway, it would be fun to go on the hunt again.

He cautiously pushed open the door to McGarrett's office. Ricardo might be an idiot but he'd seen the damage the 'demon' had inflicted. It was probably just that stupid cat, the one they were searching for but, he wasn't going to take chances.

Kono would probably have called or texted if they'd found the little shithead. She'd been pretty worried. He thought it was actually kind of funny McGarrett even had a cat but, it was apparently a pretty fierce one. Anyway, he had a job to do.

...

He hadn't been asleep for very long when something snuffled around the bush under which he'd fallen asleep. A cold, wet nose poked at him. He let loose a low rumbling growl and it withdrew.

"Come on Skippy" he heard and the sound of a dog coughing as its owner tugged on its leash and the collar pressed against its windpipe.

"Skippy, No!" he heard another sharp command then, suddenly, the nose came through the leaves once more to sniff him. _How rude!_

This time he growled louder and hissed a warning.

"Leave the kitty alone, dammit!" he heard the voice again, this time sounding even more annoyed.

"Honey, it's OK, he's just being a dog. Besides, it's only a little kitten, I can see it through the leaves. Let's just eat lunch and then we'll go drop off Skippy at home and go surfing."

"Stupid dog." muttered the male voice.

Cujo was now on edge. The fur on his body stood up and his tail, once again, took on the bristly look of a bottle brush. The stubborn Skippy's nose once again made its snuffling appearance through the foliage.

_All right! That's it! _

With his trademark screech, Cujo launched himself out of the bush like a rocket to sink his claws into the unfortunate Skippy's nose.

The surprised dog let loose a convincing screech of his own and hurled himself backward to collide with a passing waitress who screamed loudly and dropped her tray of soft drinks. Soda exploded into the crowd of lunchgoers gathered on the restaurant's patio as the plastic pitcher and tumblers flew in every direction.

The waitress stumbled backward to collide with a group of diners, knocking their pedestal style table and the attached cafe umbrella onto the table next to it. People screamed in alarm and scattered as the tables dominoed across the patio; several more toppling over with the heaviness of the opened umbrellas.

Skippy, yelping in fear scrambled through overturned plates of food, his leash catching on a chair and pulling it behind him like a wrecking ball with legs as a small cat with a blood curdling howl chased the beagle into the restaurant.

There was more screeching of all sorts, both human and animal as the sound of breaking glass and other mayhem resounded from inside the restaurant and a black and tan dog burst out of the open front doorway, a furious, snarling cat behind it.

They were followed by a man yelling "Skippy! Dammit!", a distressed looking woman and probably every busboy, waiter and waitress in the restaurant.

The parade, lead by the now chairless and food covered dog proceeded furiously down the sidewalk as startled pedestrians leaped out of the way.

Screaming dog, cat, owner, girlfriend, and a small army of food workers followed by a very irate man screaming obscenities in Italian followed up the rear as the parade thundered down the street.

...

He heard the jingle of the bell in the darkness. From the sound of it, Cujo was running. He heard other noises. Voices yelling, dogs barking, someone cursing in Italian?

It was still dark but the sounds carried to him. _Cujo! _He ran toward the sounds, stumbling into the darkness.

...

Chin pulled to the curb in front of the shoe store. He could see several people staring standing out in front of it and staring down the block toward where the street dead-ended at the sand.

A smiling Hawaiian man in a brightly colored shirt and expensive looking shoes met him at the doorway of the shop and pointed toward the shore.

"Brah, if that's your popoki, you'd better get him before someone shoots him. There's plenty hehena people chasing him. I think the cops just got there!"

_***5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii** **5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0***_

TBC

Glad to hear that Mr. O is back at work. I wish continued good health to him.


	12. Protect and Serve

Cujo II - Chapter 12

**Here's another. The new chapters will be shorter to speed up the updates, (that's my theory anyway). Hope they're OK. Let me know if they aren't. Thank you all for the reviews, alerts and favorites. I'd like to say they don't matter and that I'd be just as happy to post stories no one reviewed but that would be a big, fat, Nixon/O.J./Tobacco Company lie. I love to hear from you guys!**

**Disclaimer: I offered to trade two cats, an '87 Oldsmobile and my husband for them but, they didn't take me up on it for some reason. Still don't own anyone or anything to do with the show except my plots and OC's. Apparently, I have to come up with something more tempting on the next offer.**

_*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*_

Protect and Serve

He may only have to wait. From what he could see, McGarrett would probably be dead soon anyway. He heard the stats rattled off by that big, red-haired nurse. He wasn't a doctor but he knew it wasn't good. The guy was on his way out.

He'd always approached his profession with utmost care to detail. It was only being thorough to gather knowledge of the medical side of things. It had helped in the past. He'd hung out for a couple of days here collecting what he needed. In the past, he'd killed a couple of people with no one even suspecting their deaths had been deliberate. He was good at what he did; maybe even the best. It was an art.

He smiled to himself. Yes, an art and, sometimes, his paint was bright red and warm.

...

Chin ran to the end of the street. There was quite a bit of commotion there on the sand at a small shave ice stand.

He could hear screeches and barking and screams and shouts. There were several of HPD's finest with guns drawn surrounding the shack; people in aprons too. What the . . . ?

Displaying the badge he'd pulled off his belt to hold before him, he made his way through the crowd to the source of the commotion.

"Five-0!" he announced, "Hold your fire!" he barked at one of the uniformed cops who'd drawn a bead on the creature making most of the noise.

Before them was a cowering, food-covered dog; a bit of frilly lettuce caught in his collar like a prom corsage. Strings of what looked like melted cheese dripped from the ends of his long ears. His eyes were wild with fright and he barked and howled at the small cat who stood a few inches away, murder in its yellow eyes.

"I'll handle this! Somebody bring me a blanket." Chin calmly ordered.

A heavy blanket almost magically appeared and taking it, Chin approached Cujo cautiously.

"Now, now. It's OK, Cujo. The doggie is too big to eat. Now that you've scared the crap out of him and all of these people, it's time to go home."

The Hawaiian detective spoke a soothing litany to the little cat, ignoring the whining of the terrified canine now scrunched in the corner under the ice machine that was just high enough off the slab floor to accommodate a twenty-five pound dog beneath it.

"Cujo, leave the doggie alone. Let's go home. Let's go see Kono and Laurie." He soothed. The cat paid him no mind, its focus was solely on the cowering Skippy and his imminent demise.

"That cat tried to kill my dog!" said an indignant and accusatory male voice from the crowd behind them. The crowd swelling by the minute with curious onlookers dressed in bathing suits and sun hats. "I want it shot!"

Not daring to turn from the tense stand-off, Chin heard a woman's voice say, "Aww, it's just a little kitty."

"Yeah, a really pissed off kitty!" laughed a male voice and several others tittered along with him, sounding more nervous than amused..

"Oh, my God! Skippy's bleeding!" said a distressed female voice from somewhere at the front of the crowd near the guy who'd identified the dog as his.

"That's just tomato sauce ma'am." answered a young sounding male voice

"Looks like Arabiata sauce, actually." came another voice in dry observation.

"Cujo, calm down. Let the doggie alone." continued Chin, ignoring the chatter around him.

"Whose animals are these?" authoritatively demanded one of the uniformed cops.

"The dog's mine but he didn't start this, he's the victim!" answered a young, brown-haired man at the front of the crowd.

"The cat belongs to Five-0." said Chin quietly, wanting to wince as he said it but keeping his usual calm and not daring to turn around lest he had to make a dive for the angry cat or be witness to a messy canine death.

"That's McGarrett's cat?" said a surprised uniformed cop.

"Yup, the one and only." answered the calm detective, pleased for Cujo's sake the little cat's reputation preceeded him.

"I thought he'd be bigger, sort of like a mountain lion." laughed the cop.

"Oh, he's big enough." replied Chin through clenched jaw. He heard laughter behind him as he stood watching the cat slowly advance toward the scared shitless dog.

"Cujo! Knock it off now or I'm gonna let these guys shoot you!"

Something in his words or tone finally caught the cat's attention. He sat down on his haunches and looked calmly at Chin.

"You wanna go see Kono and Lori?" asked the Hawaiian, knowing the cat may recognize the names. Cujo only regarded him suspiciously. He'd spotted the blanket Chin held at his side.

OK, he'd have to lie to the cat but, whatever works . . .

"Let's go see Steve OK?. Cujo, Steve wants you to come home. Let's go see Steve." he repeated, positive the cat would recognize the name of the only one he'd even remotely want to please.

With that, the cat chirped at him and, seeming to completely forget the terrified and sauce coated Skippy, scampered quickly toward Chin and meowed to be picked up.

The crowd murmured in amazement at the change in the frightening little feline's demeanor.

Chin heard the phrase 'cat whisperer' from the crowd behind him. He cautiously bent down to pick up Cujo, letting the blanket fall to the sand. It wouldn't be needed. Cujo obviously wanted to go to his chosen human and was willing to cooperate to do so.

The fierce little animal allowed Chin to scoop him up and as the Hawaiian detective; carefully carrying the miscreant, walked back toward his vehicle; Skippy's owner rushed to his cowering animal. He scolded the poor dog like it was a misbehaving child.

"I told you to knock it off! Now look what's happened!"

"Who's going to pay for the damage! That stupid dog wrecked my restaurant! . . . " the rest of the statement was a very loud, rapid and angry sounding mixture of English and Italian; a red-faced man wearing a white shirt and a brightly colored tie came forward and began to wave his arms about in furious gestures.

Chin could feel Cujo begin to tense in his arms and calling over his shoulder to someone he recognized in the sea of uniforms said, "Contact Five-0 to sort this out, Miko. I have to get the cat back to the office before he changes his mind about offing the dog!"

Miko Kiliona just smiled and gave a half salute to his former colleague who now held the rank of lieutenant in HPD even though he worked for Five-0.

This was turning out to be an interesting saga. McGarrett sure had a motley bunch. Maybe he'd write a story about it sometime.

...

The day had dawned grey and gloomy. The streets were nearly deserted. This was a Saturday. Anyone who didn't have to be at work and who had any common sense was still tucked away in a warm bed.

He pulled the down jacket closer around him. Next time, he take a contract in a warmer climate. Jersey in December sucked. The oppressive sky; the rude people, hey, he killed for a living, yes, but there was no need to be rude about it.

Only the old man and a young woman were there. His other target, that sawed-off blonde guy wasn't around right now. He knew the guy was McGarrett's second in command and a tough little bastard in his own right. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd originally thought when he accepted the job. This was a challenge. He liked challenges. Killing civilians had always been too easy.

He was expecting McGarrett to just die on his own. It looked like that was going to be the case but it wasn't happening fast enough. Despite circling the drain for the last few days, the head of Five-0 was still hanging in there.

Anyway, he'd had enough of this dismal weather. He was tired of freezing his ass off. Time to help the man along on his journey to 'the great beyond'.

He checked his pocket one more time. The vial and syringe were secure. He pulled off his bulky parka, shivering slightly as he smoothed out the white jacket beneath and straightened the name tag.

...

As detective and cat arrived at the office, Kono caught him up on the latest regarding their boss: "Danny called about an hour ago. It looks like there's good news for a change. They've probably found whatever's been making Steve so sick. They're starting some new drugs. If it goes well, he should begin getting better in the next few hours." smiled the Hawaiian woman.

"We have to call Mary and let her know." advised Chin. "She's all packed and ready to get on the next flight to Newark."

"Can't be easy being Steve's sister." sighed Lori

Chin set Cujo onto the floor in the middle of the situation room.

"Thanks for finding the barracuda, cuz." smiled Kono, relief at more than finding their missing mascot/rodent control device showing on her smooth face.

"Thank Cousin Kanunu and Uncle Kokoa. They called when Uncle spotted Cujo trying to murder a beagle and leading a parade of very, very, pissed off people down the street.

"Pissed-off?" asked Lori, standing hands on hips looking at the small cat staring back at her; yellow eyes as innocent as a newborn's.

"Yeah, something about wrecking a restaurant." said Chin shaking his head in disbelief.

"Crap!" said Kono. "Now, how are we gonna keep it from the boss that Cujo escaped on our watch?"

"How the little jerk got out in spite of our precautions, I have no idea. Steve should have named him Houdini." snorted Chin.

"Yeah, well, he's a ninja-cat according to Danny." laughed his cousin.

Lori, a large smile on her face said, "Steve would be proud."

Cujo took that moment to go toward his friend's space. He trotted quickly across the floor toward McGarrett's office and entering the doorway, stopped suddenly enough that his hindquarters raised off the floor when he put on the brakes.

He sniffed the air and growled lowly.

"What now!" said Lori in exasperation.

...

Steve's temp had come down to 103.5 and hovered there. Danny could see his eyes moving back and forth under closed lids as he dreamt of something that gathered his brow into a frown. He moved restlessly under the sheet but not enough to disturb his IV's this time.

Danny put his hand on his partner's arm and lightly rubbed his fingertips across the still overly warm skin in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

They'd taken Steve off the respirator that morning. Still too groggy from the sedation, he'd only half wakened for brief periods before falling back to a deeper sleep.

Danny, finally feeling OK enough with Steve's progress, was going home to catch a few hour's sleep in a real bed instead of a torturously uncomfortable chair.

Danny was going back to the Williams' house to shower, get something to eat and crash. He'd stood vigil over his friend for the last two days and nights. His partner's temperature was slowly coming down to a nearly acceptable number. The bluish tinge had left his skin and he seemed to rest more calmly.

Danny had never felt so drained in his entire life. Not even when Grace was three and spiked a 105 degree temp that sent he and Rachel rushing their daughter to the emergency room in the middle of the night - had he been so wiped out afterward.

Even though he'd been frantic, in his rational mind, (the one that wasn't in charge at the time), he'd known a kid with that high a temp wasn't so unusual. He knew now an adult with a fever like that was in serious trouble.

He sighed tiredly as he shuffled to the parking structure to retrieve his sister's compact to take him home.

He'd gotten a text from Chin that Cujo had been found and was safe. Now he wouldn't have to tell Super SEAL his psychotic, piranha with fur, shithead, cat had run off. Maybe, they'd even be able to keep it from him completely. _Yeah, that would be good._ Who else could possibly know except the team and maybe Max and Kamekona that the little buzzsaw had even gone on a walkabout? Shouldn't be too hard to cover up.

Augie and Angie stayed to watch over son and brother. Even though his dad didn't say anything, Danny knew the man had been greatly worried. You had to be around Augustine Williams for awhile before realizing that, beneath the calm exterior, the man was as worried as the rest of them. Though he never showed it, he felt as strongly and passionately about a lot of things as the rest of the more outgoing and 'let-it-all-out' family.

Maybe that's what Danny'd seen in Steve. The outward calm, (unless Wo Fat was involved), hid whatever was going on inside. It was familiar and even reassuring. It was probably why the relationship between the two of them worked so well despite their different ways of going about things.

Sometimes it seemed the two of them approached life from opposite ends of the universe. Deep down, he knew he and Steve had the same mindset; 'protect and serve'. Danny just didn't happen to do it with grenades.

...

Augie Williams put the back of his hand on Steve's pale cheek and smiled when the skin he felt was cooler than it had been an hour ago. He'd been worried. To have the young man who'd only so recently become a part of his family in danger of leaving them so soon had been more than stressful.

Augie knew people thought he didn't really worry about much but that was far from the truth. He constantly worried about his family.

He worried when Danny and that woman had divorced and his son had his heart broken and it seemed it would never heal.

He worried when Angela had announced her sexual orientation to the world. Would she be safe from criticism and if she wasn't, was she strong enough to not let it get to her?

He worried when Matty had made the poor decision that caused him to flee the country with some very bad people out to get him. Wherever he is; is he safe?

Could Andrew actually support six kids on a CPA's salary? Would Anna Marie's pregnancy go well?

He looked down at Steve - so pale, cheekbones too prominent, deep shadows under hollow eyes. He brushed back the dark hair from the still fevered brow and sighed. A father had so many worries.

...

The explosives were in place. The timer set for three PM. Even if he didn't get them all, he'd disrupt Five-0 possibly forever. He would call Kono to have her meet him at the office and to find out who was there with her.

He'd miss the hot Hawaiian girl. Oh well, more mermaids in the sea . . .

He looked at his Rolex. Just a couple more hours.

...

He could smell the man he didn't like. He smelled of mysterious creatures and damp, unfamiliar earth. It was an evil smell. Was he here?

He slowly approached his chosen human's space. He thought he would find him here. The quiet man had said the word that usually meant his human was near somewhere. He sounded like he was asking if he wanted to go to him.

He cautiously followed the strange scent into the space. It grew stronger as he approached the big box behind which his human usually sat. The box had a smooth, shiny top where he sometimes took naps in the smaller boxes that sat on it; the ones that had nice, clean paper on which to lie.

The others followed him. He didn't know why they were watching so closely but it didn't deter him. He was going to find if the man he didn't like was here and get rid of him.

Cujo crept under the desk and looked upward. There was another box there. It was bigger than the one that people talked to and it blinked with a light on it. Besides smelling like the man he didn't like, it had another smell. It didn't smell like anything alive but it wasn't a very nice smell.

"Hey" said Kono "What's Cujo looking at under Steve's desk?"

"Maybe another mouse?' asked Lori, already backing toward the hallway.

"He doesn't growl at mice." observed Chin as he dropped to his haunches to look under the desk.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed as he looked up and spotted the timer attached to the package of what was probably C-4.

"BOMB!" he yelled, "EVERYBODY OUT . . . NOW!"

_*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*_

TBC


	13. This is Not a Drill

Cujo II - Chapter 13

**Here's another. Hope you like it. Feel free to let me know one way or the other. Steve is much more present in this chapter but I had to give Danny a break, he's tired.**

**Thank you all for the reviews, alerts and favorites. I think I'm going to print them out and hang them where I can read them every morning. Should be a much better way to start the day than staring back at people and animals waiting for me to make breakfast.**

**Disclaimer: Theirs: all the good stuff. Mine: whatever's left.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

This is Not a Drill

Scooping up the startled cat, Chin ran toward the exit, pausing only to pull the handle on the fire alarm.

People hurried out of the building into the bright sunshine but not fast enough as Five-0 prompted them along yelling "BOMB! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!" That seemed to do the trick.

Everyone rushed to the far side of the parking lot as the fire department arrived and behind them - HPD's bomb squad. They gathered behind the cover of vehicles parked along the street that fronted the palace's parking lot.

Chin informed the emergency responders he'd seen twenty three minutes left on the timer and that was about seven or eight minutes ago. After his own experience when Hess had put the explosives around his neck, Chin had the utmost respect for the members of HPD's bomb squad who quickly finished suiting up. The two, one man and one woman, lugged the heavy explosive dampening container up the steps and into the building.

Cujo was quiet but watchful as he waited in Lori's arms. The rest of the building's inhabitants crouched behind the row of parked cars. Kono was startled as the ring-tone signaling the caller was her handsome new friend, Tim Grayson, sounded loudly in the open air. The old fifties song 'He's So Fine' made a few people standing near titter in nervous laughter.

"Hey baby." she heard the smooth baritone of his voice as she hit the 'accept' button. "I'm gonna be a couple minutes late."

"Right now, that's a good thing, Tim." answered Kono grimly.

"What's going on?"

"Bomb scare. Real one. Good thing you're not here." she breathed in relief.

"Is everyone OK?" asked Grayson, though what he really wanted to say may as well have been _'Curses, foiled again!'_ like the villains in those old silent movies.

"Yeah, we got everyone out of the building. Bomb squad's taking care of it right now."

"Well, I'm glad you're safe and that everyone's OK." said Grayson trying to put genuine _sounding_ enthusiasm into the statement.

"You may as well take your time getting here Tim. Looks like we're gonna be here for awhile. What time was the reservation?" she asked

"Oh . . . uhh, don't worry about that. We'll work it out when I get there. There are other restaurants." he covered - though not necessarily as skillfully as he should have.

Kono bid goodbye without making note of her boyfriend's seeming hesitant sounding answer. She had more pressing matters to deal with.

A small cheer went up from the gathered crowd as the bomb squad came down the steps with the heavy container between them. They carefully set it on the landing before transferring it into the back of the reinforced disposal vehicle.

The confirmation that all was clear wasn't given for another hour as the squad finished searching the building for any further devices.

Chin almost felt he should be offering the services of Five-0's resident watchcat and apparent bomb sniffer. Turning to the cat still quietly ensconced in Lori's arms, he said, "Good job, Cujo." and smiled as the little animal looked back at him curiously.

Cujo had only heard that from people when he'd brought them presents . . . well, everyone but the woman who held him - she only screamed. People were strange sometimes.

...

Steve began to stir. He coughed and jerked awake, halfway sitting up before Augie gently pushed him back onto the bed.

"Whoa, son. Just lie back down and rest."

"Augie?" blinked Steve as the weathered face came into focus.

"Yeah, How're you feeling?"

"Steve only blinked back at him in confusion, raising his hand to tug the annoying nasal canula away from his face.

"No, no! Leave it be." came Angela's voice as her hand covered his and gently guided it back to his side.

The dark blue eyes traveled around the room as if looking for something or someone.

"Danny'll be here in a few minutes. He's been waiting here for days for you to get better . . . and now you are." smiled the dark-haired woman.

_Wow, if this is better, what was it before?_ He felt as though a truck had hit him and then backed up to do it again. He tried to ask a question but his throat wasn't going to cooperate.

"What day . . . ", he managed to croak out but the rest of the question was lost in a fit of coughing, lungs still sounding congested.

"Here's some water, SuperSEAL. Take a few sips before you start talking again."

Steve sipped from the bendy straw offered by Angela. The water felt wonderfully cool as it trickled down an irritated throat that, until very recently, had endured the dreaded breathing tube.

After another minute, he tried again.

"What day is it? How long have I been here?"

"It's almost Christmas Eve, Steven." said Augie gently.

The long lashed eyes opened wider in surprise. "Christmas Eve?"

"You've been here for a week, babe." said Angela, using Danny's usual term for addressing his friend.

"Was I sick?" he asked, sounding confused. He remembered some of the trip to the grocery store and the kid kicking him in the chest which hurt like hell but not much more.

"Yeah, really sick but, you're a lot better. You're going to be fine. You rest now." said Augie as he put a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder.

"That's good." said Steve as he closed tired eyes and slowly drifted back to sleep. He was exhausted and talking was sometimes overrated.

Augie smiled down at the young man who quietly sighed and closed his eyes; still too thin, still too pale but that can be fixed. _Wait until Stella gets hold of him_, thought Augie as he once again sat in the uncomfortable chair and chewed his pipe stem while they waited for Danny to return.

...

_Good_, thought the man in the white jacket as he silently peeked into McGarrett's room before opening the door the rest of the way. _Just a woman and an old man. This should be easy._

Both looked up as the man, apparently a doctor they hadn't seen before, entered the room.

"Good morning." he greeted with a flash of white teeth and a slight French accent. They both smiled back in greeting as the doctor moved quickly to the side of the sleeping man.

"How's our patient today?" he asked cheerfully.

"Better." said Augie. "Quite a bit better."

"Excellent." answered 'the doctor' as he pulled a stethoscope from his pocket.

"Which doctor are you? I haven't met you before." asked Angela as she glanced down at his mud caked shoes.

"I'm Dr. Olivier." he answered. "Just here to check on the commander. We've got some additional medication to give him."

"What's it for?" asked Angela as she moved closer to the stranger who had now placed his stethoscope on Steve's chest, not bothering to first pull the sheet down or the gown aside.

"His fever, it's to bring it down." said Dr. Olivier after only a slight hesitation. He wasn't expecting to get the third degree. Usually, a white coat and a stethoscope was all it took to gain people's trust. He should dispose of them too but he wasn't worried about being identified.

The glasses, dark wig and neatly trimmed facial hair were enough of a disguise. Besides, he'd have to charge extra and he hadn't negotiated the fee beforehand. He was an honest man. It wasn't right to jack up the price just because it was a little more difficult than he'd predicted.

Sensing something wasn't quite right by the tone of his daughter's voice, Augie Williams began to move toward the other side of the bed toward Angela and the bearded and white-jacketed man standing in front of her.

"Why don't we wait for Evelyn first, Dr. Olivier." said Angela coming closer to the man who regarded her with annoyance.

"Why would we wait for a nurse?" asked Olivier somewhat testily, his own senses telling him the woman was suspicious of 'the doctor'.

"His fever's come down already. I'd like to check with her. You haven't even looked at his chart to see what meds have already been administered." coolly stated the woman.

"I'm a doctor! I know what to give my patients!" said Olivier, hoping the authority in his voice would make the woman back down. He put the stethoscope back in his pocket and took the syringe out of the other pocket, popping off its cap with one hand.

"I said, wait." ordered Angela in her official 'cop' voice.

"I said, I'm a doctor. I'm not going to wait. My patient needs this medication now!"

"You go near him with that needle and it's the last thing you're going to do for awhile because, at the very least, you'll be in traction!" warned Angela as her father came around the side of the bed to stand next to her.

Olivier only huffed dismissively and moved to insert the needle into the IV port attached to Steve's right arm. This stupid woman couldn't prevent him from doing his job. Just a quick press of the plunger and it would soon be over for his target.

Suddenly, the woman launched herself at him as the old man slapped the syringe from his hand and it bounced off the wall behind the bed.

Angela tackled him, bowling him over to land heavily on the linoleum floor but in a suprisingly agile move, he rolled and popped up to take a defensive position. Angie quickly regained her feet as well and coiled herself once more for attack.

Augie rushed forward to enter the fray and Olivier, in a swift and efficient maneuver, used the man's momentum to launch him halfway across the room to collide noisily with a wall.

A gun seemed to appear magically in his hand and just as quickly, Angela kicked it from his grasp then took him to the floor once again under her full hundred and thirty pounds of muscle. Losing his grip on the weapon, the gun bounced and spun across the floor to clang loudly against the metal stand beside the bed.

Steve startled awake and though not fully comprehending what was happening, reacted on instinct to scramble out of the bed, ripping loose the IV's and leads as he made to assist Angela.

"Steve! No!" yelled Augie as he stumbled forward to keep Steve from the fight. He grabbed him just as Steve was about to join the battle and pushed him back onto the bed. It didn't take much of an effort to overpower the weakened man.

"Angie can handle it!" barked Augie as he fought to restrain Steve who'd managed to twist out of his grasp in spite of his lack of strength.

The fight with the would be assassin lasted only another moment as the tough jersey cop landed a kick that doubled Olivier over and left him gasping on the floor. She quickly flipped him onto his stomach and kneeled on his back as she pulled his hands behind him. Augie tossed her a roll of adhesive tape he'd grabbed from the table next to the bed and she made quick work of trussing up her captive.

"Let me up!" gasped Steve, still trying to process the information that had so suddenly triggered his fight or flight reflexes.

"Shh, it's OK, commander." soothed Evelyn as she rushed into the room to join Augie in trying to keep her patient in bed.

"Angela's taken care of it, just lie back down before you hurt yourself." admonished the tall auburn-haired woman.

"Steven, relax, it's under control." soothed Augie, the beginnings of a shiner blossoming on his right eye.

Steve was still too agitated to lie back. Air wheezed noisily in and out of his stressed lungs as he fought them to get out of bed.

"Steven!" commanded Augie, "Lie still, dammit! Angie's taken care of it. We're all OK. We're all safe!"

That seemed to make an impression on the struggling man. _Did everyone in the family have to sound like Danny?_

He lay back, still breathing too quickly and noisily as Evelyn fixed the canula back under his nose. He looked worriedly at Augie, who only smiled back at him and patted Steve's shoulder reassuringly.

Augie, now confident that Steve would stay put, bent to retrieve the gun from the floor and gingerly clicking the safety back on, handed it to his daughter who tucked it into the back of her waistband.

Someone had already called for the police. The sound of their arrival drifted up from below as three beefy hospital security guards rushed into the room.

...

"Hey, SuperSEAL, how ya doin'?" asked Angela as she cheerfully entered the depressingly drab room which for some unexplainable reason was painted a dull grayish green.

"Great, now that I know Wonder Woman is watching over me." he smiled. Though he still appeared tired, his face had more color.

Yesterday, the adrenaline rush that fueled the effort to get out of bed to assist her had drained him and left him shaky, perspiring and even more pale, (if that was even possible).

"The 'doctor', " Angela said sourly as she came to stand beside the bed, "Isn't talking. We don't know yet who he actually is but, I'm pretty sure he's a hired gun. From the look of him, probably a pretty expensive one. Whoever's after you has laid out some serious green to get rid of you and he's not giving up on it despite the previous failed attempt."

"Yeah, we get those sometimes." answered McGarrett. "How do you know about the previous attempt? Danny's got a big mouth, hasn't he?"

"Of course, he's a Williams." answered Angela as she crossed her arms smugly in front of her, smiling down fondly at her newest brother.

"Your dad OK?" asked Steve worriedly. He'd been asleep when Augie had left yesterday but he knew the older man had been roughed up a bit in the struggle.

"Same answer." laughed Angela softly. "He'll have a shiner to impress the ladies with. He's quite popular with my mom's card club the one we like to call the 'hot flash brigade'."

Steve laughed. "So, the Williams men never lose the charm?"

"Nah, drives my mom nuts but she knows he wouldn't stray and he knows, if he did, he'd be sacrificing a very important part of his anatomy to a really pissed off Sicilian woman."

"You talking about ma?" asked Danny as he entered the room. "I heard you say 'really pissed-off Sicilian . . . must be her."

"Yeah, the Corleones have nothing on the Galluzzis." said Stella's daughter, shaking her head.

"I'll have to remember that." smiled Steve as he tried to maneuver himself into a more comfortable position in bed. His breathing had improved enough to lose the annoying oxygen canula and the only thing still tethering him was the sub-clavian IV line that still delivered the needed meds.

They'd also left the heparin lock on the back of his hand. At least it was no longer near the crook of his arm which prevented him from bending it. Since beginning to feel better, his normal restlessness was making a return. If he didn't get out of this dismal place soon, he'd seriously start planning his escape.

"Yeah, you don't want to get on her bad side. It's not really safe. She 'knows people' smiled Danny, rolling his eyes and making air quotes around the phrase.

"Hey, Danno, I've seen your mom in action, remember? I don't think she'd have to get anyone else involved to get the job done. I bet that little punk who tried to take her purse is still peeing his pants when he thinks of her." he laughed,

"So, SuperSEAL, Ingstad says you're doing so well, if we've got somewhere to take you, he'll let you out a little earlier than he'd planned so you can actually enjoy your Christmas." said Danny, waiting for the reaction from his partner.

"No shit!" exclaimed McGarrett as a huge, joyous grin blossomed on his thin face.

"No shit." said Danny solemnly "But . . . "

Steve winced, _Why does there always have to be a 'but' in the equation?_

"You have to promise, cross your heart and swear on a stack of _'Guns and Ammo_' that you'll behave yourself." warned Danny.

"Just what the hell does that mean!" demanded his partner.

"Means, don't be you!" said Danny a little too sharply. He could tell Steve was feeling better and would soon be up to his old tricks.

Steve knew he would lose the argument and, if he wanted out of here, it would be best to just shut the hell up and be grateful for the opportunity no matter the proviso. He snorted in frustration and nodded resignedly to his smug partner.

"Good boy." said Danny, reaching out to pat the top of the dark head as though Steve were an obedient dog.

"Don't push it, asshole!" muttered the man in the bed as Angela nodded sympathetically, trying to suppress her smile.

...

Grayson pulled up to the still blocked off street near the palace. He found a place to leave his car and hurried toward Kono who was busy questioning someone standing in the group gathered on the perimeter of the cordoned off area.

This was getting tiresome. He was not at all happy though he plastered a smile on his face as he approached his 'girlfriend'. He waited until she was done speaking with the young man who stood shaking his head yes and no to her questions as she listened closely to his answers. Satisfied, she thanked him and waived him back to the small crowd still gathered in the parking lot.

Apparently, they'd not yet gotten the OK to re-enter the building. He smiled at Lori who stood observing the crowd from a slight distance, the cat still in her arms. Cujo growled menacingly at him as he passed her.

_Godammed cat!_ He'd have to find a way to get it out of the way before it screwed up anything else. He knew he should have disposed of the little fucker that first time it tried to take a chunk out of his ankle. Only Kono's quick action had prevented the little asshole from achieving his goal.

He hugged the Hawaiian girl hello as he could hear the cat continuing to growl behind him. Before he once again made an attempt to dispose of the governor's special task force, he'd have to get rid of that little viper with fur.

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TBC


	14. The Stuff of Dreams

Cujo II - Chapter 14

**Here's another short chapter so you don't think I've abandoned the story. Still having computer issues and it took a couple of days longer than anticipated to post this. Will soon have a new computer and no further excuses. I won't have anyone to blame but my ADD self - the dog has grown tired of eating my homework.**

**Disclaimer: In my dreams I own the show and am lying on the beach between two handsome guys; one dark haired and the other blonde who both think I'm the 'cat's meow' while a servant brings us umbrella drinks. In reality, I'm lying on the couch between two meowing cats who think I'm their servant and want me to bring an umbrella to hold over them so they can go outdoors. Life isn't pretty . . . or fair.**

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The Stuff of Dreams

She could hear the moaning and mumbling. It usually began that way. Sometimes it stopped and there were no other sounds. Sometimes it continued and escalated. She knew Danny would, eventually, wake him and then she'd hear a reassuring murmur in her brother's voice.

She wondered of what he dreamt. Whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant. Danny wouldn't or couldn't say but she knew it probably had something to do with the military. Sometimes, the words the dreaming man mumbled or shouted were in a language she didn't recognize. He sounded angry when he used them.

_They make a good couple. Too bad they're straight._ She thought and smiled into the darkness. Danny, like their mother, all noise and motion. Steve, like their dad, stoic and quiet. A good team; opposites yet complementary.

The light coming through the gaps at the edge of the thermally insulated drapes indicated it wasn't light out yet. Looking over at the glow of the digital clock on the stand at her bedside, she knew daylight was still another hour away. She tried to go back to sleep but the mumbling from the next room grew louder.

She waited for Danny to wake and handle it as he usually did. She knew Steve had more than one source for the nightmares; his military service and his law enforcement service. With this kind of work, nightmares were inevitable at times. She knew from her own experience, closing one's eyes could dredge up all manner of disturbing images.

Her dad's years of service with the Newark Fire Department had certainly provided him with unwelcome memories. When he was younger, he'd handled the stress by drinking and punching the crap out of the heavy bag at the gym. Angie had always wondered whose face he fantasized as he beat the shit out of it.

Nowadays, he played with his grandchildren, took long walks and went on the occasional camping trip with other retired buddies from the NFD. He talked about getting another dog. He greatly missed the terrier who'd been his companion for many years and had finally gone to the 'big doghouse in the sky' a couple of years ago.

Though she knew her mother would never admit it, the woman had been at least a little jealous of the dog's relationship with her husband. He'd take the dog along with him to the corner market and buy a candy bar to share between the two of them even though neither was supposed to eat candy. He never thought to bring the other half of the treat to his wife. Like all married couples, they had their moments but her mom had cried as many tears as anyone when Freckles finally succumbed to old age and probably too much candy.

Her brother's relationship with his boss/partner/friend was just as give and take. She knew they didn't always agree but, somehow, they always worked it out.

One of the things Danny complained about was his partner's need to 'run a marathon and then swim ten miles before dawn every morning'. She supposed that's one of the things the tall man used to cope with the memories. He hadn't been able to run or swim since he'd been here. No wonder he was having those nightmares.

The mumbling increased and grew louder. _Where was Danny?_ After a few more muffled phrases; angry and louder this time, there sounded a raw, agonized scream. She quickly rose from bed, pulling on a sweatshirt as she rushed barefoot from her room and into the hallway to knock on the door next to hers. There was no answer.

_Where the hell is Danny?_ She wondered again, trying to decide if she should open the door or not. Obviously, something was wrong.

She turned the knob and pushed it open as there sounded another strangled scream and she rushed across the room to the man writhing in one of the twin beds in the room.

"Steve!" she said loudly to try and wake him. "Steve!"

She approached cautiously. Danny had told her of his experiences trying to wake his partner from sleep. It wasn't safe to touch him unless you were prepared to defend yourself or run. Even then, you could get seriously hurt.

"Steven! It's OK. You're OK!" she said even more loudly. _Where the hell is her brother?_

The tall man continued to moan and thrash, becoming entangled in the bedding which seemed to make his struggle even more frantic.

"Steven! Wake up! It's just a dream! Commander!"

He suddenly jerked awake, sleep clouded eyes darting around the room before clearing as full wakefulness allowed them to focus on the woman standing at the foot of the bed and looking at him apprehensively.

"Oh, my god! Angie, I'm sorry!" he said in a sleep roughened voice as shaking hands went up to brush back his wild, sweat dampened hair, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's OK. It's time to get up anyway." She said in relief now that he was aware and disengaged from the nightmare.

She smiled awkwardly, glancing around the room; eyes landing on the kitschy baseball themed alarm clock sitting on the outdated nightstand. The clock was a leftover from Danny's and Matty's childhood occupation of the room. The colonial maple nightstand was probably a leftover from from actual colonists. _It's like a fucking time_ _capsule,_ thought Angela. _I wonder why Ma never took out her mad redecorating compulsion on this room?_

Steve, blinking the nightmare away, looked embarrassed and smiled up at her uncertainly, still breathing way too fast.

"Where's Danny?" she asked, coming closer now that it was actually safe to do so.

"Said he had to meet someone at six this morning." answered the still disheveled but much calmer SEAL. "It's kinda early for a meeting, especially for Danny. I'm sure he's up to something."

A smile appeared on the thin face again but his hands still shook as Angela noticed him trying to hide them under the blankets.

"Yeah, he can be pretty sneaky sometimes." She smiled back. "Have him tell you about when he used to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet with Darlene Lavagetto."

"Darlene, huh. I'll remember to ask."

"Yeah, when she broke his heart, he swore he'd never fall in love again. I guess you can forget those declarations when you're only fourteen. It didn't seem to keep him from getting it broken again. At least I'll give him points for being willing to 'get back on the horse' she laughed, not sure how Steve would take the reference to that old saying about 'getting back on the horse that threw you'. She could feel the heat of an incipient blush on her face.

"Well, I think Danny wouldn't exactly call Rachel a horse." chuckled Steve, "Unless he was talking about snooty thoroughbred blood lines or something."

She huffed at the thought of 'that woman' who'd taken her brother's heart and trampled it into the dust. There was an awkward silence before she asked, "You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Nothing that hasn't happened before." he assured her with his lopsided smile.

She was sure he was blushing as well even though she couldn't clearly see it in the dim light that filtered through the frosted over window.

"Danny said you've had nightmares for awhile. Are they getting any better?"

"Did your brother leave me any secrets?" laughed Steve, only somewhat jokingly.

"He's worried about you." She answered truthfully.

"Yeah, well, he worries too much. He's like Mother Danny to everyone on the team."

"Sounds like my big brother." smiled Angela. "You'd think having a kid to worry about would take care of that 'mothering instinct' but I know he's got plenty to go 'round."

Steve laughed openly this time; acknowledging his partner's sometimes smothering concern for his teammates and Steve in particular as the most 'in need' of his attention.

"Mom and Dad are already up and busy with things downstairs.", then mostly to herself, " I don't know why anyone would get up this early if they didn't have to."

"Danny's always saying stuff like that too."

"Damn right, it's just freakin' crazy" chirped the dark haired woman.

"I may as well get up too. Doesn't look like it's a good idea to go back to sleep." sighed Steve, once again running a hand through his hair in embarrassment.

"You should try, Steve. You need all the rest you can get if you're going to take that long flight back to Honolulu in a couple of days."

"Yeah, the airport's gonna be a zoo. Lots of tourists trying to get out of the cold and travel to paradise hoping to experience hula girls, sunshine and pakalolo. Mostly they'll only experience empty wallets and hangovers." He smiled, then added, "I'm really sorry, Angie. I know you didn't get much sleep either."

"You heard?" she said. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.

"Yeah, like you said - thin walls." he admitted.

She'd spent the first half of the night arguing on the phone with her ex and the other half crying her eyes out. Her head ached and she was exhausted from her emotional conversation with Nadine and its aftermath.

The former 'love of her life', even though she'd been a lying cheating snake, was still too painful a memory for her. She'd hoped to get to that stage in her failed relationship where she felt only cold anger but, so far, no luck. It still hurt too much. She didn't give her heart lightly and she'd, obviously, given it to the wrong person. Danny didn't have the exclusive on that one.

Steve knew that Danny and Angela were quite a bit alike. He'd seen Danny's painful struggle with the debris of his feelings for Rachel. He wished he could do something for them both and knew the only thing he could do was be there for her as he'd been for Danny.

"You wanna talk?" both of them asked simultaneously, and both dissolving into nearly hysterical laughter - partly in embarrassment, partly in relief.

"Have a seat." said Steve, moving over and patting the side of the bed as he tried to straighten out the bewildering tangle of bedding.

Angie helped him sort out the blankets and comforter, then sat on the edge of the bed.

"So", she said, "Who wants to start first?"

…..

It had been light for only an hour or so when Danny returned from his 'meeting'. He greeted his mother who was busily puttering around in her brightly lit kitchen as the smell of coffee and frying bacon greeted him. He stomped off the slush and mud on the mat in the service porch before entering the delicious smelling room.

"Hey, Ma." He greeted Stella and came forward to give her a peck on the cheek and a quick hug.

"Daniel" she smiled, "Did you take care of your chore?"

"Yup, all taken care of and ready for tomorrow." he sighed in relief. "Steve up yet?"

"No, I let him sleep. Poor thing needs as much rest as possible. He's way too pale yet . . . and thin!"

"I'm sure you'll take care of the 'thin' part." laughed Danny. "I think I've gained ten pounds since I've been here!"

"I'll do my best but there's not much time to fatten him up." she sighed as she lifted the splatter guard from the frying pan and turned the bacon. She regarded it as her duty to get Steve to gain some weight before he went back home. His hospital stay had put a crimp in her plans and she had to make up for lost time. The tall man didn't have much of an appetite yet. It wasn't like feeding a Williams kid.

"Steve _must_ be tired. He's usually back from his morning marathon by now, eaten his napalm fortified granola and is raring to catch bad guys by first light. He's kind of freaky that way."

Stella only smiled as she put the screen back on the pan and Danny went quickly out the doorway to thunder up the stairs to the second floor.

He noticed his sister's door was already open and assumed she was in the bathroom as he quietly turned the knob and pushed open his own bedroom door. Taking only one step into the room, he stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open and eyes wide in shock at the scene before him.

There, cuddled in the same bed were his partner and his sister . . . his gay sister! He continued to stare wordlessly. Steve's arms were wrapped protectively around her shoulders, his chin resting on top of her messy mop of raven hair. Her face was tucked against his chest. Both were sound asleep.

WTF?

...

He was not at all happy.

His mouth was sticky and his eyes were sticky and he was stuffed in a box . . . again.

He remembered the female, the one who screamed at his presents, giving him a treat. Whatever it was, it was yummy. Even that little lump in the middle of it didn't keep him from quickly swallowing it down with relish.

Next thing he knew, he woke up in a dark box. He didn't remember doing anything that would get him put in a box. He knew, sometimes, after he'd again tried to shred those two females at the place of barking dogs and funny smells, he would get yelled at and then stuffed into a box until the tall man came to take him home.

He'd punished them for holding him down and making his skin feel like he'd been bitten by a really big flea. They deserved it.

He let out a loud, unhappy howl as the box was bumped and jostled. This was really pissing him off!

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TBC


	15. Too Much is Way More Than Enough

Cujo II - Chapter 15

**Here's the next one. Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts and favorites - my reason for living, (that and chocolate). I hope you like this chapter. Not a whole lot happens but not to worry - there'll be some action and lots more Cujo coming up. Let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: No matter how many coins I throw in the wishing well, I still make no money from this stuff. The only things that I can claim other than the plot and some of the OC's are the mistakes. I knew I should have thrown quarters instead of pennies.**

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Too Much is Sometimes Way More than Enough

Olivier, (that was surely not his real name), wasn't talking. Danny had pegged him as a pro. He didn't have much hope the guy would roll on his employer. Newark PD had him in custody and he knew they'd put their best interrogators on it. Attempting to take out a couple of cops, even if only one of them was a former colleague and the other wasn't even from the same state, was seriously frowned upon – the law looked after its own.

In any case, it would probably delay their trip home at least a couple of days. Danny wouldn't think that was too bad an idea if he wasn't worried about his team. Steve could certainly use the extra time for his recovery.

Stella used every opportunity she could to stuff him with food. Danny finally got her to lay off a little as he'd noticed Steve missing shortly after dinner the night before and discovered him ralphing in the upstairs bathroom.

Rather than refuse Stella's over enthusiastic kindness, he'd overburdened his still iffy digestive system and made himself sick by consuming something that he probably wouldn't even eat if he was feeling OK.

"Just say no, dammit!" Danny had admonished his pale and shaky partner as he helped him back to the bedroom to lie down.

"Danny, I don't want to offend your mom. She'd been so kind to me, hell, you've all been too kind to me."

"Too kind?" Danny caught the slip. "_Too_ kind?" he repeated, running a hand through his neatly arranged coif, a sign that something was bugging him and he was about to address the issue . . . loudly.

Steve only looked at him uncertainly, not knowing what he'd done now to deserve the unwelcome attention from his sometimes mercurial partner. He knew he was in for a rant and waited for it to start, a puzzled look on his face.

_There it is again; that stupid lack of thinking he is worthy of kindness; the unspoken expression of 'I'm not worth anyone's trouble'._

"Steven," he began quietly, "There's no such thing as 'too' nice in this family. You are as deserving as everyone else of kindness. Get over this shit, OK?"

"Sorry." mumbled McGarrett even though he wasn't completely understanding where Danny was going with this. Maybe he'd staved off one of his partner's loud lectures it seems he couldn't ever avoid for very long.

"Sorry! SORRY!" and the rant began as the little blonde began to pace back and forth, his hands beginning their inevitable flurry of motion. The man sitting on the edge of the bed stared down at the braided oval rug that had been in the room for as long as Danny could remember.

"Steven, you do know that you are deserving of people's kindness, don't you?" demanded Danny, impatiently waiting for an answer of some sort. Even just a nod or grunt would do.

After a moment, Steve looked up, his thin face blank and controlled. He quietly asked a question: "Danny, you ever hear about the Lurp dogs they used in Viet Nam?"

"No, what the hell are Lurp dogs?" asked his partner, thinking maybe it was some sort of purebred dog and having no idea where Steve was going with this. He sat down next to his partner, making the bed squeak with the extra weight.

Steve answered in a voice devoid of emotion. "They were dogs specially trained to go into the underground tunnels dug by the North Vietnamese. Lurp or L.R.P., is short for long range patrol."

Danny only nodded he was listening even though Steve hadn't looked at him and was staring at the wall opposite, a far-away look in eyes that conveyed nothing of what he was thinking.

"They were trained to find and, if necessary, to kill the enemy. They were efficient, they were deadly. At the time, they were nearly the ultimate in search and destroy. They did their job well."

It was beginning to dawn on Danny where this was going. He started to say something but Steve continued his soliloquy.

"You know, when we left Nam, almost all those dogs were abandoned or killed. They were too dangerous to bring home. They'd served their purpose and were just considered surplus armaments without a role in peacetime. They had to be destroyed before they hurt anybody they weren't supposed to. People didn't think they could be retrained enough to be safe around."

"Steve . . . " Danny started to say but his partner continued.

"Danno, I'm like one of those dogs. I don't fit in anywhere. I'm not safe for anyone to be around. I only get people hurt; sometimes even killed."

Danny sat quietly, too stunned by Steve's words to form a reply.

"I'm not really a SEAL, I'm not really a cop. I've seen too many things and killed too many people to be 'OK' in the normal world. Danny, I don't know how to be anything else. I'm tired of trying to fit in where I don't belong . . . where I haven't belonged since I was fifteen."

"Steve, please . . . " Danny tried once again.

"I don't even know who I can trust. I trusted Jameson and look how well that turned out." he said bitterly, "I trusted Jenna and it almost got you guys killed going after me. Maybe you're right after all; I'm not good at mammal to mammal stuff, don't think I ever have been.

Steve had said all of this without ever looking at the man sitting beside him. He sighed and seemed to slump into himself, closing his eyes and looking more exhausted than Danny had ever seen him . . . and he'd seen the tall man so very tired so many times during and after tough cases. It was never like this - like whatever animated him had deserted his body and left only this pale, damaged shell.

The blonde sat in silence for a long moment before speaking again.

"Steven" he began, almost unable to form the words that needed to be said. "My friend, you are so so sadly mistaken about not belonging. You belong with your ohana in Hawaii. You belong with your new family in Jersey."

Danny, once again ran a hand through his now disheveled hair.

"Nearly an entire state full of people think you're worth bringing home. You've made such a difference to so many of them. People who feel safe around you. People whose lives are safer because you _are_ around."

The tall man slumped beside him gave no indication he'd heard or was even listening.

"You took Chin out of a dead-end job and believed in him when no one else did, you trusted Kono to become the great cop she is, you even trusted a tie-wearing haoli who slugged you on the first day you met him . . . even though you may have deserved it, you understand. How can you not see that you are _worth_ kindness no matter what you tell yourself on your dark days?"

The tall man only continued to stare at the far wall of the room. Steve was one of the most closed off people he'd ever met . . . and he'd met a few. Up until fairly recently, even Danny had a tough time figuring out what was going on in his partner's troubled head. Now, he could see the signs of turmoil and angst so clearly. How could he have missed it before? What kind of friend has he been? Sure, Steve was struggling after his return from Korea but it didn't sound as though the dark thoughts were anything new. Maybe it was time to talk him into seeing someone. Maybe meds would help him out of this dark place.

"Steven, I know you don't yet recognize what's before your stubborn nose. You don't yet realize that you've got so many of us in your corner. Not just because we trust you to protect us but because we see you for who you are: a strong, kind, compassionate human being. I know I call you an animal but, it's a term of endearment babe. I love you like a brother. Gracie loves you. I trust you with my life . . . with Grace's life. You know there aren't many people I'd say that to. Grace is the most precious thing in the world to me and I trust that you would never ever do anything to hurt her or anyone else I care about.

Steve still sat quietly but raised his eyes to silently search Danny's. The dark blue gaze held so much pain it was like looking into an abyss; into the very heart of sorrow.

"Please hang in there partner. It'll get easier, honest, Trust me. I know you. I know, eventually, it will get through that thick head of yours that you're worth everyone's kindness and love. I trust you to come to that conclusion. You're pretty smart for a Neanderthal." he said, trying his damndest to get Steve to react to something - even this weak attempt at humor.

He thought he could see, if not a smile, then a lessening of the tightness in the thin face before Steve sighed once again then leaned forward to bury his face in the arms he'd crossed over his knees. As he had countless times with upset siblings, a wife and a daughter, Danny rubbed a soothing circle on the huddled back. Steve had a long way to go but Danny would be there, both his families would be there.

….

She missed the guys. It didn't seem like Christmas without Steve, Danny and Gracie. She didn't realize how accustomed she'd gotten to the bickering and rough humor that sometimes entertained her and the others.

She missed the sweetness of Danny's daughter; so much like him in many ways but without the sarcastic edge he brought to many of his observations on life in general and his ADD partner in particular. Sometimes, she didn't know why Steve put up with it but it seemed to amuse him for some reason. Whatever it was, she knew they were like brothers, no matter the disagreements.

In their last phone conversation, Danny had told her that Steve was feeling down about being ill for so long. It must be torture for someone used to being so active. She smiled sadly to herself as she thought about her energizer-bunny like boss and what a struggle it must be for him, (and whoever's job it was to keep him from interfering with his recuperation). It was certainly a sucky way to spend the holidays but now they, at least, knew he would recover and come home to his ohana.

The Hawaiian detective knew even before he'd left, something had been off with Steve. She assumed it was the aftereffects of the Korean thing. Jenna's betrayal and death had hit all of them hard but particularly her boss. She didn't know there may also have been a lingering physical reason for the weight loss and shadows under his eyes.

Danny hadn't yet told Steve of the failed bombing of HQ. He said he'd break it to him the day after Christmas when it didn't matter if Steve went up in an angry puff of smoke at being kept out of the loop. The little detective didn't want Steve to go AWOL and hop the next plane back to Honolulu. Kono knew that Danny wasn't looking forward to revealing they'd kept the information from him. She was just glad it wasn't she who had the task.

She sighed again, waiting for Tim to come pick her up for that postponed dinner date. That had been so sweet of him to pay for Cujo's visit to see Steve. She'd have to 'thank' him for it later.

...

Christmas morning dawned clear and cold. Danny looked over to the next bed and saw the mounded pile of blankets that was his still sleeping partner.

The nightmares had been only brief last night. It took only a few reassuring words to calm him back into dreamless rest. Ingstad had been wise enough to prescribe a sleep aid to ensure his patient got sufficient rest.

Steve was an unrecognizable lump under the layers of bedding. Only a bit of his dark hair was visible against the pillow. Without being acclimated to East Coast winters and lacking any body fat as insulation, it had been a struggle for him to stay warm enough.

Danny laughed to himself. Maybe cold weather was SuperSEAL's true kryptonite. He'd seen the man shot, stabbed and beaten to within an inch of his life and it was as though he was made of titanium. Nothing really slowed him down or made him so much as flinch except Jersey weather. It confirmed Rambo was physically human, even if emotionally, Danny had sadly learned on this trip; it confirmed he had to make up some lost time.

….

"Where's Steve?" she asked. He's usually up as early as Dad."

"Still sleeping. The doctor gave him something to help him. I made sure he actually took it last night. You've noticed our little SEAL is growing restless. I think he's planning on jumping ship and swimming home if he has to."

"Yeah, he is getting a little antsy. It must be hard to be so confined after being so active."

"You have no idea. Sick or not, those pills are the only reason he's still in bed . . . well that, and it's too cold for our 'tropical flower' laughed Danny.

"You'd better watch it Bro, he hears you call him that and sick or not, he'll kick your ass." laughed Angie.

"Yeah, soon as he gains a couple more pounds and doesn't look like death not quite warmed over, he probably will. Ma's been stuffing him like a Christmas goose. He doesn't want to offend her so he's trying to eat whatever she gives him. I found him puking it up yesterday. I don't think he'd eat most of that stuff even normally. You know, he's all about organic pineapple chunks and tree bark usually."

Angela laughed at the description. "So, are you over your shock yet?"

Danny's eyes crinkled merrily at the recollection of SuperSEAL and Angie cuddled up together like puppies in a basket.

"I have to say, Angie, that scene was one of the most startling things I could've imagined. You probably took at least a couple years off my young life."

"Are you convinced now that we were only 'sleeping'?"

"Yeah, yeah but I hafta admit, it did look a little incriminating. Who knew Rambo even cuddled afterwards, I thought he'd just pound his chest and . . . "

"Danny! Dammit! Nothing happened! We talked and then fell asleep. What kind of girl do you think I am?" she demanded.

"I know what kind of girl you are, Angie. The kind who isn't into guys. That's what the shock was. I also know that Steve is like catnip to most women. I thought maybe you'd succumbed to his charms or he to yours." Danny raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Angie had enough. She knew he knew nothing had happened but she also knew he wasn't going to stop the teasing. She reached out and punched him on the arm - maybe a little harder than necessary.

"Ouch! dammit Angie!" he yelped, rubbing his bicep then grabbing her shoulders to pull her off the couch and onto the carpet, trying to pin her to the floor in retribution.

She gave what she got as the two of them wrestled back and forth, rolling this way and that locked in sibling battle. Steve walked into the room as the combatants tumbled past him. He stared nonplussed as they continued their noisy dispute, still unaware of his presence.

He stood quietly at the doorway; fascinated by the childish display of two grown, badass police detectives trying to best each other. Suddenly realizing they were being observed, the two stopped in mid roll; Angela atop her brother who had his hands around her wrists, ready to throw her off him.

With arms folded across his chest and a huge grin on his face, McGarrett asked, "You children want to tell me what this is about or is this just your way of saying good morning to each other in the Williams family?"

Steve wondered who blushed the brighter red, his partner or Angela. He decided Danny, due to his fairer complexion was probably the winner of at least that contest, the initial one seemed a draw at this point. _This was freakin' hilarious. _

"So, you guys didn't answer the question." smirked McGarrett, "What's this about?"

"Nothing." answered brother and sister together, looking absolutely mortified at having been discovered rolling around on the carpet like a couple of five-year-olds fighting over a coveted toy.

Steve just smiled an evil smile. _So, this was the real Danny Williams._ He wondered what he could blackmail out of his partner over this little display. He was already aware that Danny would probably counter with the 'scene' of finding he and Angie together in bed but Cath would only laugh once he explained it . . . well, he thought she would laugh . . . wouldn't she?

_Besides_, he thought continuing to grin as the two disentangled themselves and stood up, straightening their clothing. _What's the downside of having Chin and Kono think that I've persuaded a committed lesbian to take a 'walk on the wild side'?_ That sounded more like something one of his navy buddies would brag about. It would only count as testament to his his appeal to females - no matter their orientation.

_OK, it would never get that far but Danny doesn't know that. This could be really fun._

...

"Ma, you've gotta stop trying to practically force-feed Steve, he's not up to it yet."

"Did he say something to you?" she asked her eldest son worriedly. "I'm not force feeding anyone. He likes my cooking!"

"Yes, yes, he does. Maybe just not so much of it at one time."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her chocolate eyes wide in surprise.

"Ma, he actually made himself sick trying to eat everything you piled on his plate."

"The man eats like a bird! He's never going to gain any weight that way!" she exclaimed, somewhat defensively.

"I found him puking in the upstairs bathroom last night."

"Not from my cooking! "

"No, not from the quality of your cooking, as usual, it's wonderful. It's just that he can't eat that much right now. The medication he's on and the illness itself makes him queasy."

"Danny, all Steven had to do was say no! I wouldn't try to force him to do anything that was bad for him." Hurt and confusion showed on her still nearly unlined face.

"Ma, he doesn't want to offend you by refusing to eat what you've cooked." said Danny sympathetically. Telling Stella Williams her cooking had made someone ill was like telling Caruso his singing hurts their ears.

"That's just silly. He couldn't offend me. It's just food."

Danny knew his mother wasn't being completely honest but didn't call her on it. "Ma, Steve's not used to the way this family interacts. He doesn't know that you wouldn't have an issue with it. He's worried if he hurts your feelings you'll . . . "

"What? Not love him anymore?" said Stella jokingly, not waiting for Danny to finish the statement. When her son only looked down at the floor and didn't have a rejoinder to her comment, she realized her question wasn't that far from the truth.

Finding her voice, she said, "That's . . . that's . . . just so sad." she finally settled on, not able to come up with another description for the pang she felt in her chest.

"Ma, you've no idea of the life he's lead; not many people do. Steve's the biggest, baddest guy on two legs but . . . "

"He's like a lost boy." Stella interrupted again softly.

"Just don't call him that, he'll freak for sure." smiled Danny at his now distressed looking mother.

"What happened to make him that way . . . so insecure I mean. He seemed sad somehow from the moment I met him. I see the way he sometimes stares off into space with the saddest expression - when he thinks no one's watching him."

Danny, though he shouldn't have been, was surprised by his mother's insight into his partner's psyche. "He can't really talk about a lot of it, even if he wanted to. There's so much of it that's classified." Danny only rolled his eyes at that last word.

"Can we help him somehow?" asked Stella, staring into the bright blue eyes that so resembled Augie's.

"Just do what you're doing." smiled Danny fondly at his concerned mother - the woman who took in strays of all kinds, "Maybe without quite so much food, huh? He's coming 'round. We'll make him into a Williams boy yet."

"You are a good son." smiled Stella as she put her arms around her oldest to hug him close, "and an even better brother." she whispered, tears dampening her lashes.

...

Angela just shook her head after Danny told her of his partner's fear of offending Stella Williams' hospitality. Here was a grown man. A leader. A BAMF navy SEAL and he's afraid of a woman standing about five-one on tiptoe?

She'd heard Danny's tales of arrests, explosions, flying tackles and other assorted fearless takedowns of the worst Hawaii had to offer. Steve's insecurity, however troubling, was sort of endearing. He was her brother now. If this Catherine woman he'd told her about ever hurt him, she'd gladly kick her ass. No one messes with family as long as Angela A. Williams drew breath.

...

After the phone call confirming the arrival of his hired assassin and the guaranteed elimination of one of the targets, he hadn't heard again from him. He was supposed to confirm the kill as soon as it was done.

Growing concerned, he'd done some checking of his own and found that his supposed top-of-the-line professional hit man was now in the custody of the Newark Police Department for attempted murder of a police officer.

Shit!

Tim Grayson was fairly confident the guy wouldn't reveal who'd hired him. He knew his own very deserved reputation for retribution would keep him safe for the moment. In the future, it wouldn't be that hard to make sure his highly paid henchman would _never_ talk.

Five-0 finding the explosives before they'd detonated was a bad break. Before any further attempts to rid the island of this very large thorn in his side, he'd have to get rid of that fucking cat. He wouldn't give it a third chance of screwing up his plans. Kono had proudly told him of Cujo's bomb sniffing talents. That mangy little flea bag was just plain freaky.

When those three idiots he'd originally hired had gotten themselves killed, it was lucky they were just no-name drifters. He knew they hadn't yet been identified by the medical examiner and perhaps never would be. Grayson had run across them when looking for disposable help in handling his inventory. Apparently, even the people at the zoo hadn't missed that one dufus who helped them at the snake house. He might have even kept that one alive. He was really good with reptiles. Oh well, he'd find another. Good thing people were disposable.

The next attempt wouldn't fail. Offing the nearly legendary leader of the governor's special task force and his entirely too capable second in command would be his sole focus. He couldn't afford to let them live. He'd first start with that stupid cat.

The handsome man sighed as he put his phone to his ear to make 'arrangements'.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC


	16. Good Things In Small Packages

Cujo - Chapter 16

**Here's the next one. Cujo finally makes his appearance. Thank you to Libtech for the information about the animals only airlines. Please remember this is fiction, I had to fudge on the details. **

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, alerts and favorites. You guys are wonderful. It helps keep the momentum going. I need all the **_**forward**_** momentum I can get. I've got plenty of it going in the other directions.**

**Disclaimer: If they were mine, they wouldn't have to worry about the cold.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Good Things in Small Packages

The snow was once again falling softly. It was a white Christmas this year . . . not just a grey one.

Steve shivered and hugged the down jacket closer around him as he looked out at the enchanting scene of pristine whiteness. The snowfall dampened all ambient sound, making the quiet complete. He really missed this; not the snow but the solitude. He missed the crash of waves on the shore that was like the sound of his own breathing.

Being in the middle of this rambunctious family was certainly comforting but sometimes, it was a little claustrophobic. He'd spent most of his life behind a wall of his own making.

He'd always used the numbness to isolate himself from his past and his profession. Now, it was slowly, sometimes even painfully, wearing away like rock succumbing to a ceaseless flow of water over its rough surface until over time it had been polished smooth.

The quiet wrapped its arms around him as his breath condensed in a white puff of steam before his face. Something cold suddenly splatted against the side of his head as he heard a shout of "Gotcha!"

He whirled to see Angie smiling triumphantly, Danny and Anthony behind her looking smug.

"Bring it!" he laughed as he bent to gather snow to compact into ammunition of his own. He knew he was at a disadvantage in his snowball making skills - he hadn't really had much practice, not to mention he was outnumbered three to one. The odds didn't bother him though, he'd had worse.

Danny, Anthony and his brother-in-law David joined the fight as they arrived for the Christmas Day festivities. The very pregnant Anna Marie only huffed at the rowdy group, loudly dismissing them as "Idiots!" before scurrying into the warmth of the house.

"Hey" said Danny, "Even SuperSEAL can't fight these odds!" as he pasted Anthony in the face with an icy missile then ran to Steve's side to join his brother-in-arms.

The snowy war raged for another ten minutes, both sides scoring cold, messy hits. Steve was seriously beginning to tire, his breath starting to come out in a squeaky wheeze that made Danny look at him sharply.

Just then, Augie slowly ambled up to them, his weathered face creased into a smile. His bright blue eyes were laughing though the sound never left his mouth. The shiner he'd acquired was still dark though the swelling was gone. It only made him seem rakish.

"Hey! You kids knock it off now. Mom wants you all inside. The ham, turkey and lasagna are ready and you have to set things up so we can eat before it all gets cold."

They stopped in mid-battle and laughingly brushed the snow out of hair and off of each others clothing as they noisily trooped back toward the house. Everything else could wait. Their mother's special Christmas lasagna was to die for.

Angie got in one last shot as she dumped a handful of snow down the back of Danny's jacket; making him yell at the startling coldness of it as it shocked his exertion warmed skin.

"Hey! Battle's over!" scolded Augie as they crowded into the large service porch to unwrap layers of clothing to hang up to dry and stomped the snow off of shoes and boots onto the rubber mat.

Once the outer-wear was stowed away, they divided up the various tasks to make the dining room ready for Christmas brunch. It was a meal that went on the entire day. People would be wandering back to snag another helping of whatever goodies had survived the initial onslaught. Traditionally, throughout the day, friends and neighbors would be drop bye, sometimes adding dishes of their own making to the already laden sideboard.

Thankfully, Andrew's six rug-rats were at their maternal grandparent's home in one of Newark's many suburbs for most of the day. They'd be arriving later and bringing the in-laws with them. It had been their turn to witness the shredding of wrapping paper and the squeals of happiness or groans of disappointment over what Santa had left under the tree.

Though no one said it, having six of the little darlings underfoot at one time could be a little chaotic. The only one at the moment who seemed to relish the commotion of so many kids in one place at one time was Danny. Steve knew he sorely missed his daughter and opportunity to be Uncle Danny was better than nothing.

They'd already planned to have their own Five-0 Christmas when Grace came back from England and Steve's fetching lieutenant, Catherine, could join them at home. Danny had even promised to make Stella's special edition lasagna. Even it it turned out only half as good, it would be worth it.

Steve missed his home, his girl, and strangely - his cat. The little creature who'd provided him with non-judgmental affection, (well, as non-judgmental as Cujo could be), had been a good companion when the SEAL had woken from his distressing nightmares.

Steve knew Danny was doing the best he could and he really appreciated his help in waking him then reassuring all was well so he could return to sleep but – Danny doesn't purr - at least not that he knew of, (or ever wanted to find out).

The others were all engaged in finding chairs and putting in the table extensions. Anthony, who'd been a waiter in the past, expertly snapped open the crisp white table cloth and arranged it on the wooden surface.

Steve had no other job but to put ice in the tumblers sitting next to the water pitcher. He knew they didn't want to burden him with anything more strenuous. He'd have laughed if it didn't seem to further depress him. Having quickly completed his chore, he excused himself from the group to answer the doorbell.

Anthony's girlfriend, Sheri, had arrived. A tall, honey colored beauty with startling hazel green eyes, her hair was elaborately braided with sparkling red and green beads woven into it. He greeted her with a welcoming smile and introduced himself as she introduced herself in turn. In the small talk he wasn't very good at, he discovered she was a nurse at the same hospital he'd only recently signed out of.

She'd managed to actually leave her shift on time. For whatever reason, the usual holiday madness resulting in broken bones, cuts, bruises, burns and etcetera had tapered off and she'd been able to make her escape.

Soon, all was ready and they launched themselves at the feast. Steve stood back and waited as he was sure someone was going to lose a digit as the hungry horde began stabbing at the platters of ham and turkey. This was just the beginning. Stella hadn't yet set out the desserts.

Brunch progressed with the usual laughing and bickering. Stella, usually an energetic little dynamo, seemed subdued. Everyone knew she missed Matty terribly and they went out of their way to kiss her on the cheek and hug her for the wonderful meal.

Things had finally quieted enough for her to sit back and take a look at the faces gathered around her. Matty's wasn't one of them and it made an almost unbearable ache inside her. Steve noticed her uncharacteristic quietness and made a point of sitting next to her.

She smiled brightly at him and gave him a hug, whispering into his ear. "Thank you for taking care of my boys . . . both of them. Danny told me about what you did for Matty, thank you."

Surprised Danny had spilled the beans about Steve's 'misdirection' of the FBI in their search for his brother, he hugged her back only a little awkwardly.

Other than Grace's enthusiastic embraces given to her Uncle Steve and on occasion the brief 'manly' hugs given and received from his comrades-in-arms, this sort of thing didn't happen very often. Of course there were the more intimate ones with Cath and the other women in his past but this was so much different. This hugging thing wasn't bad; he could get used to it.

After everyone had eaten as much as they could hold, loosened their belts and ensconced themselves in the living room once again, the talking began in earnest. Those who'd not fallen into a food coma continued their amusing tales of misadventure, successes and failures - some of them quite spectacular. Everyone got to endure the teasing and, if warranted, the praise.

Steve had wound up on the sofa between Danny and Sheri with her boyfriend on the other side of her. Anthony, with a not very happy expression, would glance over at him occasionally. He'd seen his girlfriend paying way too much attention to his new brother.

She put her hand on Steve's arm and looked into his long lashed eyes; her own sparkling and flirtatious as she laughed at the tale of Cujo's 'meeting' with the governor at HQ.

Angela sitting in a chair across from them noted the woman's attention to Steve and she'd seen Anthony's notice of it too. Steve seemed oblivious.

_He's an unusual guy,_ thought the dark-haired detective; someone who could use his obvious attraction when useful but was almost completely clueless at times to the effects of what Danny had termed 'catnip'. She was just glad she was immune to it or she could get into all sorts of trouble with the attractive man.

Sheri was saying, "So, you're the one who caused all the commotion!"

Danny interjected, "Yeah, he can always find trouble, even in a hospital bed. He's got a real knack for it . . . some sort of animal-like homing device like a pigeon."

Steve only rolled his eyes and subtly leaned a little further away from the enthralled woman after having finally noticed Anthony's scowl at her attentions toward him. _Uh oh, this could be awkward._

"You know" she continued, "I work in pediatrics but the guy I talked to in the lobby that day fit the description of the one who attacked you. My friend, Evelyn, told me about him."

Danny leaned forward, body tensing like a cat ready to pounce. "French accent, dark hair, beard?"

"Yeah, he asked me if Hawaii needed an international calling prefix before he dialed the number. With the accent, I figured maybe he wasn't aware that Hawaii's actually one of our states."

"People, even citizens sometimes, don't know that . . . well, the dumber citizens." muttered Danny as the wheels turned in his head.

"Did he ask for anything else?" queried Steve, his eyes now focused like lasers on the woman with the beaded hair.

"No, he thanked me and then went to use one of the pay phones."

All three cops looked up at each other. Danny, the first to speak, "Thanks Sheri, I could kiss you! I've got to make some calls." and hurriedly stood up to rush toward the hallway for privacy as he pulled his cell from his pocket.

Steve followed him, Sheri looked disappointed the tall man had left the room. Anthony immediately slid over on the couch and put an almost comically possessive arm around her shoulders.

"_Men."_ thought Angela dismissively as she too excused herself to go after Danny and Steve.

Danny had quickly contacted the detective in charge of their case. The phone rang several times before the call was answered. The poor guy was at home but cops were used to the interruptions of even the most sacred of holidays; be it Christmas, Kwanza, Yom Kippur or whatever. Danny apologized but made sure the wheels were set in motion to trace the outgoing call from Saint Barnabas Medical Center to a location in the fiftieth state.

….

While the three cops waited uneasily to hear news of the location of the recipient of Olivier's outgoing call, Christmas activities continued.

It was almost like everything Steve had read or seen in movies about a family Christmas. He vaguely remembered his own before his mom died. Sometimes his dad was there, sometimes not. It depended on the HPD detective's work. Still, they were happy times. He'd put them away in his memory vault years ago and didn't bring them out often. It only made things harder.

Speaking of missing fathers, Augie hadn't been around for quite some time. Just as Steve was about to ask where he was, the doorbell rang. Everyone looked toward Steve. He supposed it was his job this Christmas. _Apparently, anything else is too strenuous for me_, he thought glumly as he went to answer the bell.

He pulled open the heavy wooden door and there stood the wiry man, a huge grin on his face. In his arms was a colorfully wrapped box, a big one.

"Merry Christmas, Steve." He smiled even more broadly, his weathered face crinkling as he handed the box to the surprised man.

He could sense the others had gathered behind him. Too stunned to say anything, he just grinned back and carefully set the large box on the floor, immediately noticing the holes cut into the sides of it. Pulling off the ribbon and quickly opening the top as Augie closed the front door behind him, he heard a meow.

"Hey! How did you get here?" he said delightedly, as a small grey animal leaped upward to cling to the front of his shirt. He hugged it to his chest, laughing as Cujo began a litany of chirps and short meows accompanied by furiously loud purring.

Steve grinned as though it were Christmas . . . hey, wait a minute . . . it is Christmas! He stroked the soft fur and made sure no one touched the little buzzsaw until he was satisfied the cat was in a good mood and wouldn't take a chunk out of anyone.

"We've already bonded." laughed Augie, "He's quite the talker. He should fit right into this family."

"Just don't trust him Dad, no matter what he says." warned Danny as he cautiously came to stand next to his incredibly delighted partner. Those gathered around them laughed - maybe only a bit uneasily.

"How? When?" dazedly asked the tall man as the purring creature snuggled into his arms, ignoring even Danny, the one Cujo usually went out of his way to aggravate.

"The little piranha flew in first class." said Danny sourly, answering Steve's earlier question.

"Kono called to say that Tim, her new squeeze, had offered to pay for your barracuda's flight to Newark. I think he just wanted to get him out of his hair. He likes Tim even less than he likes me." said the blonde, his tone belied by the amusement in his eyes as he watched the tall man and the cat interact.

"What?" exclaimed Steve, raising his eyebrows. Even he rarely flew first class. It was expensive.

"Well, first class on the airline that flies only animals." said Danny, amending his statement.

"There's an airline that flies only animals?" asked Steve, eyes widening as Cujo licked his way up Steve's neck with his sandpapery tongue.

"Yeah, it's called Pet Air. The flight to Newark gets in at six fucking AM! I hope you know what a sacrifice I made for this mangy little asshole."

"Danny!" said Stella, scolding him for his language.

"Sorry, Ma."

"Well, thank you." smiled Steve "Thank all of you for making me feel so at home. This is the best Christmas I've ever had."

"You mean except for the 'almost dying' part of course." said Danny not without a smile of his own.

"Yeah, except for that part." confirmed Steve, a blush beginning to color his pallid face but his grin unwavering.

"Don't touch the cat!" loudly warned Danny to the group.

"We've heard the stories. Don't worry." laughed Angela

"Yeah, from all those scary stories, we thought he'd be the size of a Bengal tiger . . . a big one." chuckled Anthony, his jealousy toward Steve forgotten as he cautiously eyed the little animal.

Cujo stopped his licking of Steve's neck to innocently stare back at those around him. For all the world, he looked like a velvety little plush toy with the innocence of Bambi, (and the heart of Charles Manson).

...

Kono smiled at the tall, handsome man who walked up to her; a small bouquet of red roses held toward her.

_Wow, romantic;_ she thought as she took them and gave him a thank-you kiss.

Chin only watched carefully from the corner of his dark eyes. Something just didn't ring true about the guy. He couldn't put a label on it but . . .

Grayson had to get the three Five-0's taken care of. He'd amended his plans and decided it would be best to just get it over with the old fashioned way. This sneaking around with explosives was just too complicated.

He could feel the weight of the Glock in his pocket. First the girl – tonight outside the restaurant. She'd never know what hit her. Too bad there wasn't time for one last romantic interlude. She was a very energetic and skilled girl. He'd miss her.

Though it wouldn't bother him, he probably wouldn't pull the trigger himself, that's what Francisco was for. Even though the idiot was a superstitious fool, he was exceptional with a gun.

The other two shouldn't be that difficult. Maybe an 'accident' of some sort. So far, Olivier hadn't been connected to him. He still had time to work it out.

…

It was nearly nine PM when NPD got back to them with the traced call info. Several people had to interrupt their holiday to accomplish the task.

Danny took the call as Anthony launched into another tale of the infamous Darlene Lavagetto, the first known love of Danny's life who'd stolen then stomped on his heart when he was fourteen.

He gave his brother a scowl as he quickly stepped into the hallway to answer his cell. Steve and Angie glanced at each other, trying to decide if this was the call they'd been awaiting.

Danny answered their unspoken question by beckoning them from the doorway. They quickly excused themselves and went to join him.

Cujo had really taken to Augie who'd been carrying him around most of the evening. Stella noticed how her husband had bonded with the little animal. Maybe it was time to find a replacement for the late, lamented Freckles. A cat would be OK; Augie just couldn't feed it candy bars. She was good with that.

Danny listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line. His face actually paled at whatever he'd heard. Steve looked at him questioningly as he ended the call.

"We've got trouble." He announced, "The call was tracked back to a burn phone. The signal bounced off a tower not far from H.Q. I have to get back there!"

"You mean _we_ have to get back there!" said Steve, a look on his face that warned his partner, 'Don't even'.

Danny, taking in the scowl on Steve's face only hesitated a moment before nodding in agreement. Steve would probably have to be sedated again if he was left in Jersey.

"Uhh, before we leave, there's something I have to tell you." winced Danny. He was glad there were too many witnesses around for Steve to actually strangle him. His partner was gonna be mega-pissed when he found out about the bombing attempt. Danny was in danger in more ways than one.

The weather had suddenly changed from a 'Currier and Ives' scene to a near whiteout and it didn't look like the storm would be breaking until tomorrow morning. The airport was closed and all flights had been canceled or delayed for the moment. There was no way to get back home tonight at least. Even the military wasn't willing to risk the weather right now. There were no flights available. Steve had already checked.

Danny was buzzing with frustration and Steve was tense enough to be used as a bow.

They were packed and ready to go, deciding to leave for the airport as quickly as possible but they were stuck for the moment. Steve had contacted Chin and told him of developments. The Hawaiian detective had assured him that they had been taking precautions against another attempt. He was relieved Danny had finally told Steve of the attempted bombing at HQ. Keeping information like that from SuperSEAL wasn't a guarantee for a long life. He heard Danny in the background, bitching about something . . . _Well, at least Steve hasn't done away with him._

Chin would contact Kono and Lori so they could circle the wagons to be ready for any attack. For now, there was nothing to do but wait.

….

Just before the storm had made even surface travel impossible, Andrew, his wife, kids and in-laws had arrived. Steve watched uneasily as Cujo stalked one of the three-year-olds like the kid was a meal on the hoof.

He saw the little animal's ears go back and his pupils dilate as the kid screamed bloody murder at one of his many siblings in a pitch that would etch glass. The child threw himself on the floor in a melt-down style tantrum his harried parents ignored; immune to the noise.

Steve quietly scooped up his cat before genuine bloody murder happened. If anything was going to get them tossed out into the snow, it would surely be the killing and eating of a kid . . . even an annoying one.

Cujo only squawked in protest as he was snatched up and taken back upstairs for a time-out. Steve mouthed a silent apology as he passed Danny on the stairway. The blonde detective scowled at the potential little killer in his partner's arms.

_That was a close one._

…..

The night was clear and warm. Grayson pulled the Lexus into a spot at the curb. As though it had been waiting for them, it was only a couple of doors down from the front of the restaurant.

She wondered why Tim didn't valet park the vehicle but she supposed it was because he didn't trust a valet with it. _Guys can be that way about their cars sometimes,_ she smiled to herself.

Kono was actually glad they'd parked so close. The shoes she'd chosen to wear with the ruby colored silk dress were killing her. She knew they made her long legs look even longer. Tim seemed to appreciate it. She guessed that made it worth the pain.

He put his hand on the small of her back as he pocketed his keys and guided her toward the entrance. This was one of the most expensive restaurants in Honolulu. She could never afford to come here on her own paycheck.

Catherine had once told her she'd made Steve promise to bring her here to make up for the numerous times the couple had never actually gotten to dinner. It seems Steve was easily distracted by other 'things'.

Cath was quite a beauty and Kono couldn't blame him but she didn't really want to ponder on what a horn-dog her usually businesslike and very proper boss apparently could be. He'd have to pony up some serious green to take his woman here.

Just as they passed a darkened doorway, Kono caught the glint of metal. She didn't even have time to react as there was a loud noise and she felt herself falling against Tim who gently lowered her to the concrete. There was no pain, just the blackness that swallowed her.

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TBC

**To answer MAT, I've always thought of it as nothing other than a fond descriptive term. I've never considered height to be either positive or negative and there's the old saying 'Good things come in small packages'. I admire Mr. Caan as I do all of the other actors on the program and I mean no disrespect.**


	17. Almost Untrainable

Cujo II - Chapter 17

**Here's another. Maybe two more chapters to go. Thanks for sticking with the story and for the reviews, alerts and favorites. Hope you like this chapter. Please let me know what you think of it. I love to hear from you guys. You always give me great ideas about which direction to go. As you know, (or may have suspected), it gets made up as it goes along. I don't outline my stories; the characters just seem to take over and write themselves. I know, kinda creepy.**

**Disclaimer: Still wishing and buying those lotto tickets. Still don't own anything but the OC's and plot.**

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Almost Untrainable

By the next morning it had cleared enough for travel and one last call to the governor had them on the first flight out to Honolulu.

After Steve gave Augie last minute instructions on the care and _control_ of Cujo, they left for the airport. The older man seemed delighted to have this furry little guest left in his charge.

His son had no idea why the man would actually want to have the little piranha anywhere around. _Well, maybe Dad still likes to walk on the wild side every now and then_, thought Danny. If he wasn't careful, he'd get more of the 'wild' than he'd ever wanted.

That morning, Cujo, sensing Steve was going somewhere seemed reluctant to let him leave; giving his human a goodbye nip on the shin as Steve was getting dressed. It wasn't enough to break the skin but enough to let his human know he shouldn't be going anywhere without him.

This was something he hadn't done in awhile. At first, it was a daily routine when Steve left and Cujo wasn't invited along. In the little animal's head, it made sense that threatening a major mauling would keep his human from leaving.

Steve did as he used to, backing toward the door with a warning for the little animal not to try anything. Danny was already downstairs - thank goodness. He wasn't aware of this little ritual. Steve could just hear the rant if his partner ever found out.

Finally making it downstairs only a little breathlessly, Steve sincerely thanked them all for their hospitality and care; promising any of them a place to stay for as long as they wished when they came to visit.

He gave Augie a last caution about keeping the predatory little feline away from Andrew's kids.

"Don't worry son, I noticed Cujo's animosity toward that child. His name's Daniel, after his uncle, and I'd have bitten him myself for that awful screeching if I could."

Steve laughed and briefly hugged the smiling man goodbye. He didn't think so but maybe his eyes were beginning to feel suspiciously wet. He was _so_ not going there.

Stella gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, reaching up to wipe off the smudge of lipstick she left there; tears puddling in her own eyes.

"Take care of each other." she said softly.

"Always." answered the tall man solemnly, bending to kiss her on the forehead and planting an extra kiss on top of her dark hair as she hugged him tightly.

"My turn" said Danny as he nudged Steve away from the little woman and Steve relinquished his grip on her. Danny kissed his mother, hugging her with closed eyes and whispering something to her.

"Hey! SuperSEAL!" said Angela as she too held out her arms for a hug.

Steve leaned into her embrace, saying, "Thanks so much for everything Angie. I can't even tell you how much you helped. You have to come out to the islands, you'll always have a home there if you get tired of snow."

"Well, I've heard your sister is cute. She have a boyfriend?" she smiled, her face alight with mischief.

"No, not that I'm aware of." Steve laughed.

"I just might show up on your doorstep when she's there for a visit." she teased

"You are always welcome, whether Mary's there or not." He kissed her tenderly on the cheek then bent to pick up his duffle to carry it to the waiting Lincoln.

Anthony, Anna Marie, her husband Philip, Andrew and his wife Donna and even the six rug rats waived them a farewell from the huge front porch. Everyone looked a little tired. Because of the storm, they'd spent the night and it had become one big, raucous pajama party for the kids . . . and some of the adults.

He thought he heard a sad meow from the upstairs window as they went down the walkway. "I'll call you about getting Cujo on a flight back as soon as I can." yelled Steve as the big town car pulled out of the shoveled off driveway, (courtesy of Anthony and his brother-in-law), onto the already plowed street.

"So" said Danny as the big car pulled away from the Williams house, a smug smile on his face. "You actually survived Jersey. Who'da thought?"

"Yeah, I actually did survive it. Was kinda close though." said Steve, not necessarily referring to the hospital stay.

"Hey, I can't help it if you are not only a magnet for whacked-out criminals with a death wish but now, you're apparently attracting assorted tropical diseases."

"It was only one tropical disease." defended the tall man with a smile of his own, "Stop making it sound so sordid."

"Yeah, but you had to import it from God knows where, since it's 'CLASSIFIED!" said the blonde, voice rising and hands beginning to intermittently leave the steering wheel to emphasize his point.

"Hey, watch out!" yelled Steve as Danny barely cleared the rear end of a slow-moving snow plow industriously widening the lane scraped from the asphalt earlier in the morning.

"Don't get excited Rambo, unlike you, I have had many years of experience driving in snow."

"Danny, a snow plow is not made of frozen water. We'd have been just as dead if you'd run into one on Oahu."

"What would a snow plow be doing on Oahu?"

"Daniel, it was a metaphorical snow plow." said Steve, beginning some hand waiving of his own.

"Wow, Steven. You've been at the dictionary again."

Steve now looked at Danny with a scowl, having fallen for the bait. He started to reply and noticed his own hands whipping the air in front of him. After suddenly realizing what he was doing and not successful in completely hiding the horrified expression that crossed his face, he abruptly dropped them into his lap.

Danny's smile only grew larger. _Yup, Rambo was one of them now; like it or not._ He happily chattered away through the twenty minute drive to Newark Airport; Steve strangely silent, (and immobile), in the passenger seat.

...

Cujo lay on Augie's lap. This man wasn't his chosen human but he was nice. He'd petted him and quietly talked to him as the tall man had done.

The tall man had left him again. Why did he keep leaving him? He would have to go find him but this place wasn't familiar at all. There was cold stuff on the ground. He'd already eaten some - it tasted like water. When he touched it, it felt like what the really big man had given him one hot day when he'd gone with his human to the place near the water. It was like the stuff on the ground here but it was brightly colored and tasted sweet. At first there was a big pile of it in the dish and then, after awhile, there was only colored water in the dish . . . hmm.

For the moment, he would stay. It was warm here and he liked the man who chewed on the stick. The others were too loud. They rattled his nerves; the small ones especially. That one made a noise so loud it was like the time he'd been chased by the bird that had been on the grounds near the place with the big windows and lots of places to sleep. It was a very large bird that had a huge tail with many colors. It screeched just like that. He'd seen it when he'd gone for a walk outside after he'd sneaked past the female who screamed at his gifts. He stalked it but it saw him and charged! He had to run very fast to get away. That was annoying . . . and embarrassing.

Last night, the tall man had interrupted his stalking of the small human. Maybe he'd get another chance. He'd just have to wait.

He purred as a calloused hand stroked his back. It felt good and the lap was warm. He'd stay here for awhile to wait for the tall man to return. He fell asleep and dreamt of fat, juicy mice and small non-combative birds.

...

The airport was as crowded as predicted. Some of the weary travelers had spent the night in the terminal to see if they could leave on the first available flight to their destination when weather permitted.

Steve didn't really feel that sorry for most of them. He'd spent many nights in less comfort than an airport terminal. At least there were amenities available and the terminal was heated.

Just then, a restless toddler raced bye; its harried mother stridently ordering the kid to stop while lunging after him; a smaller child on her hip. Steve just stood still trying not to trip over the kid as it crossed in front of him. Danny automatically reached out to grab the little runaway by the back of his jacket and gently pulled him to a stop as the child began screaming in frustration at his thwarted escape.

"Thank you!" said the tired looking woman as she took her child by the hand and dragged him kicking and screaming across the travertine toward the rest of the family still camped on the floor of the terminal. It looked like they'd been there for some time.

"You're good." smiled Steve to his partner as Danny relinquished his screaming captive to its mother.

"Practice." Was all Danny said as they continued toward their gate.

They walked on, Danny glancing over at his partner as they emerged on the other side of the security check-point; refastening their belts and slipping on their shoes. Steve had loosened the laces on his boots before they'd even left home. He was an old pro at this stuff and Danny always wore his loafers.

"What's with the scowl?" asked the detective, "The x-ray machine doesn't show anything you haven't strutted in front of the public before, considering your penchant to wear as little clothing as possible."

Steve only snorted dismissively and rolled his eyes for good measure. "I'm not scowling. Besides, you're always over-dressed."

"OK, then what do you call that thing when you try to get your eyebrows to meet and your jaw looks like you could chew through concrete . . . and for your information, I dress professionally."

"Yeah, for a used car salesman in Schenectady."

It was Danny's turn huff and roll his eyes, "That's not answering my question, Rambo. What's with the face? It's scaring the kids."

Knowing his bulldog of a partner wasn't going to let it go, he tried to verbalize what he'd been thinking, "I just . . . "

"What? Out with it Rambo."

"I just don't know how you're so comfortable with kids that aren't even your own. I could never do that. I mean, I don't dislike them or anything. In fact, some of them are really great and I love Gracie but . . . "

"What? You took care of Mary when you were kids didn't you?"

"Yeah, but that was more like 'control and containment'. Mary was a handful . . . still is."

"Someday, when you have your own, it'll just click. Don't worry about it. I know you're comfortable around Grace and she loves her Uncle Steve. You _do_ want kids someday, don't you? I never thought to ask."

Steve hesitated, "Yeah, yes, I suppose - but what kind of father would I be? Somehow, I don't think 'warm and fuzzy' is a term people think of when my name comes up. In fact, I can almost guarantee it."

"You're probably right on that one but I have no doubt you'll get the hang of it. You're pretty smart for your age." laughed Danny, blue eyes crinkling. "Besides, Gracie isn't afraid of you. At least not anymore."

"Gracie was afraid of me?" asked Steve, his face at once surprised and distressed.

"At first, then she realized though you looked like you could, you probably wouldn't bite and she was good with it."

"Shit." Said Steve as they reached the entrance to the jetway, showing their tickets and boarding passes to the pert woman in the uniform.

…..

"How you feeling Rambo?" asked Danny, turning in his seat toward his partner who though not asleep, lay back with eyes closed.

"Been better . . . but not too bad considering." was the brief answer.

"Well, that's certainly progress." said Danny dryly.

"Progress?"

"Yeah, I'd usually get the 'I'm good' bullshit answer. This is really a detailed report coming from you."

"Yeah, well, being around your family must have rubbed off on me." smiled Steve, not opening his eyes. "Can't get away with that stuff when I'm surrounded by an entire army of Dannys", he smirked.

"Yeah, just grunting every now and then doesn't cut it in my family."

He sat up now, looking out the window at the fluffy blanket of clouds below them. "Would it make you feel better if I jumped up and started waiving my arms around like I'm directing traffic?"

"So young to be so cynical, Steven." sighed Danny. "We only gesture to emphasize our points of view." said the blonde, gracefully waiving his hands in front of his amused partner as though he were a prize presenter on a game show . . . a male Vanna White.

"And your family has so many of them and they really want to express them . . . loudly."

"Just because you're a monosyllabic Neanderthal with the communication skills of a fence post doesn't mean that other people are uncomfortable with normal human discourse."

"Wow, D. What did that MENSA chick do to you?" laughed Steve referring to Danny's failed romance that had started him on the road to vocabulary building.

"You're a jerk. You know that?"

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk." smiled Steve

Danny looked a little started but said, "That's not necessarily a recommendation but, yeah, you are. Don't forget it."

Steve just laughed. _A good sound_, thought Danny. It seemed to be occurring more often now. A very good sound indeed.

They re-lived some of the more amusing moments of the visit. Danny was apparently still a little shaken by the discovery of his partner and his sister cuddled in the same bed.

"You know, I should kick your ass for that." said the blonde in mock menace.

"You defending your sister's honor?" smirked Steve, "I think she can do that for herself. I have no doubt she'd have kicked my ass if I'd tried anything."

"Believe me, if you had made a move, we wouldn't be able to have this conversation right now because we couldn't sit next to each other."

Steve only raised his eyebrows questioningly at the statement.

"You, my friend, would be riding in the cargo hold in a pine box. Angela would have killed your scrawny ass."

"Oh, come on D. She'd have had a time she wouldn't forget."

"Yeah, how can you forget someone you've killed."

Danny thought he saw a brief flicker of something on Steve's lean face, then it was gone and Steve smiled back at him.

"Even if I'd been up to it, nothing would have happened."

"What? You don't think my sister's attractive?"

"Of course, Angie's attractive, beautiful even but _One_:" he said counting off on his fingers, " I have Cath and I'm not the horn dog you think I am. _Two_: She's your sister, therefore, she's my sister and that would just be so wrong, and _Three_: She isn't into guys. That's enough to cool almost anyone's jets."

"I would have thought SuperSEAL would take that last one as a challenge."

Steve only scowled at him not really knowing if Danny was just yanking his chain or not.

Danny smiled broadly, "See, you _can_ learn! And they told me you were untrainable."

"Who told . . . what!" sputtered Steve, taking the bait and once again beginning to gesture with his hands.

Danny only guffawed at his friend's flustered movements. _Yup, almost untrainable._

_..._

Several hours into their flight, Danny's cell rang.

Once again it was the ring-tone signifying H.Q. Danny answered, his brow knit and his hand automatically raking through his hair, the color leaving his face as Steve watched him closely. The tall man could tell his partner was trying not to freak.

"What's happened?" he mouthed, knowing it was something bad and frustrated he couldn't read the news on Danny's stricken face.

"OK Chin. Hang tight. See you in a few hours. Call me if there's any news."

"Danny! What!"

The blonde man hesitated only for a moment. There was no point in trying to hide anything.

"Kono's in the hospital." he said.

"What happened?" asked the tall man, eyes showing alarm and worry; hoping it was only something minor and _accidental_ that had put her there but knowing in his heart it wasn't.

"She's been shot." answered Danny, again running his hand through his only recently styled hair and watching his partner to see if there was anything more than the expected distress on his face. There wasn't even that. Steve was immediately back in McGarrett mode and was all business.

"How bad?"

"Don't know yet. She was hit in the abdomen. She's still in surgery. Chin's with her."

"Who?"

"Don't know. It was an ambush. She was on her way to dinner with Tim and someone stepped out of a doorway."

"Did Tim get hit?"

"No, said it happened so suddenly he didn't even get a good look at the guy. Looks like Kono was the target. They didn't bother with the boyfriend."

From that point the trip home was anything but relaxed. Steve sat ramrod straight in his seat; his entire body tensed, his face like stone.

Danny tried to distract himself with thoughts of his reunion with his daughter in a few days. It didn't work. The thoughts of his beautiful Hawaiian comrade lying in a hospital bed made their way into his head like trickles of water through a faulty dam. There was no way to stop them. Whoever did this was going to pay.

A few hours later Chin had called with an update. Kono was out of surgery and it looked like nothing vital had been damaged. Their main concern was the blood loss but she was stable for now.

Danny sighed and leaned back into his seat in relief. He handed the phone to Steve who had a few more questions for Chin.

Once everything that could be gleaned from the worried cousin had been gathered, Steve rang off and handed Danny's phone back. The flight attendant had already come up to the two men to warn them about the 'no cell phone use in flight' rule and Danny had shown her his badge.

She backed off immediately. She'd heard of Five-0. Her family was from the islands. They could have whatever they wanted. She sneaked a glance at the dark haired man . _. . This is McGarrett? Even though he really cute, he's awfully scrawny for one with such a fierce reputation_. The other guy isn't bad either but she wasn't really into blondes.

Getting home, finding out who shot Kono and making sure the other members of the team were safe were the only things either could think about for he rest of the flight.

...

The airbus touched down right on schedule. Weather had been kind on the return flight and they'd made up for some of the delay.

Steve actually felt a smile lurking somewhere inside him at the thought of seeing his team and his home again. Another call from Chin about an hour ago had confirmed that Kono would be fine. He'd also set-up HPD guards at the entrances to the hospital another on the floor where Kono was and another outside her door.

Steve could hardly wait to get out of the terminal and feel the warm air surround him; air that smelled of the ocean instead of exhaust fumes and wood smoke; air that felt like a warm caress on his skin instead of an icy slap.

Lori was waiting for them at their gate. Her badge had gotten her permission to be in the area now that, due to security measures, those without tickets were no longer allowed in that part of the terminal.

With a smile on her tired looking face, she rushed forward to hug them both hello, lingering a little longer on Steve. _We'll have to have that talk soon_, he thought as he returned her embrace rather stiffly.

Walking out to short-term parking, they threw their bags into he back of the SUV and climbed in, Lori behind the wheel. Steve frowned briefly at the faint odor that seemed to hang in the car. _It almost smells like skunk?_

He'd have to ask what happened. They didn't usually transport prisoners themselves, especially after that time one of the perps had ralphed all over the inside of it. Steve was ready to just trade it in 'as-is' for a new one but Danny had made such fun of SuperSEAL being freaked by a little 'effluvium' as he'd called it that Steve had been shamed into helping clean it.

Danny said having a kid who'd been through a couple bouts of colic and intestinal flu had made him immune to such things. SuperSEAL would just have to 'man-up' to the task.

Lori filled them in as much as she could about what had happened to Kono. They drove directly to Queen's Hospital. She'd been our of surgery for several hours now and was awake and in a regular room.

They parked and hurried across the parking lot. By the time they walked across the lobby to the elevator bank, Steve was already beginning to feel a little winded. This sucked.

Knocking softly before pushing open the door to her room, they entered. Chin was sitting beside his cousin's bed. He smiled at them but his smooth face looked even more haggard than Lori's.

Kono lay sleeping peacefully. Her hair spread out on the pillow like a dark halo.

Steve looked at Chin questioningly.

"She's gonna be OK, Brah. The bullet didn't do any great damage. They got it out pretty quickly and gave her some blood. The IV's she hooked up to now are mostly antibiotics. So far so good. There hasn't been any infection. She's gonna be fine."

Steve ran a hand over his face and let out the breath he didn't know he'd even been holding. Beside the bed, Danny leaned forward to brush an errant strand of hair from her forehead. She seemed to smile slightly at his touch but didn't awaken.

"Any leads on who did this?" asked the tall man quietly as he motioned for Chin to join him a little farther away from the sedated woman. He was back in work mode one-hundred percent. His mind already adding to the mental file that left no room for distraction.

Chin only shook his head. "Grayson said it was a guy in a hoodie who stepped out of the shadow of a doorway and didn't say a word before he pulled the trigger. Said it happened so fast, there wasn't time to react. The only thing he could do was take are of his girl."

"Yeah, that worked out well." said Danny sourly. His opinion of Grayson was quickly dropping below the already shallow mark the blonde had assigned him when they'd first met.

"He didn't get a look at the guy?" asked Steve, already knowing that Chin would have given them whatever information he had.

The Hawaiian detective only shook his head negatively as he moved back to the side of the bed and reached to smooth his hand over his cousin's pale cheek.

"Stay here with Kono and call us when she wakes. Maybe she caught a glimpse of the bastard who shot her."

"Tell Kono we're on it." said Danny as he patted Chin on the shoulder and turned toward McGarrett who asked one last question of the worried Hawaiian detective.

"Chin, we're going to talk to Grayson. Do you know where we can find him?"

"Yeah, if he's so concerned about his girlfriend, whey isn't he here?" muttered the blonde detective.

"I don't get a good feeling about that dude." said Chin, "but Kono's a big girl. I figured it wasn't my call to clue her in. She's also a smart girl, she'll figure it out for herself if something isn't right."

"Yeah, even McGarrett's barracuda had a bad reaction to the guy but I guess that's no real recommendation. That little asshole doesn't seem to need any particular reason for hostility. He could probably just annoyed it's daylight, you know, like vampires. He's probably afraid he'd gonna burst into flame or something."

"Well, we'll be working on it." said McGarrett. "Call us when Kono can answer questions."

"Oh, Steve?" asked Chin

"Yeah, Brah?" said McGarrett interrupting his stride toward the door to turn toward the HPD lieutenant and his detective.

"Welcome back kaikaina."

"Mahalo." smiled Steve. The grin lighting up his thin face.

The two men and Lori strode out the door toward the elevators. The shooter wouldn't know what hit him when they got their hands on the bastard.

...

TBC


	18. Flowers for Every Occasion?

Cujo II – Chapter 18

**Here's another. Please let me know if you like the direction of the story, (or not). Cujo will be back home soon to re-unite once again with his chosen human. I think I'll have to add an additional chapter to the original estimate to wrap things up.**

**Thank you for your kind reviews, alerts and favorites. They really make my day/week/month/year/millennium!**

**Disclaimer: Would love to take them home with me but I don't think they'd enjoy it as much as I would. Fortunately for them, there's a law against kidnaping.**

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Flowers for _Every_ Occasion?

Grayson clicked through the bouquet choices on the web site whose banner proclaimed 'Flowers for Every Occasion'. The ginger flowers and plumeria looked nice. Just because he'd had her shot didn't mean he wouldn't send her some get well flowers. She wasn't going to live that much longer anyway.

He already had another plan. This one was foolproof.

He was beginning to feel like Wily Coyote going after the Roadrunner. Well, _fourth time's the charm_ he supposed. Fate wouldn't be that unkind to let him fail again. This was embarrassing.

What was it with these fucking Five-O's? Their luck had to be incredibly good or he'd underestimated them. _Well, that's not going to happen again._ He'd gotten rid of that evil cat. He knew it would take months to get that little monster back to Hawaii. Everything would be over before the quarantine period even expired. His experience with the rules and regs of animal import had come in handy even if he usually ignored them.

_The stargazer lilies and the pink roses, yeah. That's the one._

He clicked on his choice and entered his credit card information. _She'd like those._

…..

McGarrett and Williams strode up the walkway to the gleaming white edifice perched on the cliff above the rolling Pacific.

The view was beyond breathtaking. Grayson must have some heavy coin to afford it. Danny tried to remember what Kono had told him about how her boyfriend made his living. He was an importer/exporter of some sort.

In the old days that would have been a huge red flag for 'drug dealer' but in Hawaii, it was a very common profession. Pretty much everything had to be imported - well, except for those fucking pineapples and maybe sugar and a few other things grown or manufactured here. Still, to make this much money at it – _one has to wonder_, scowled Danny Williams.

They pressed the doorbell button and a disembodied voice answered from a hidden speaker.

"May I help you?" inquired the slightly accented male voice.

Due to training and natural ability, Steve was good at recognizing the subtleties of national origin in speech patterns. This accent was Spanish probably Bolivian or Colombian – definitely South American.

"We're from the governor's special task force. We need to speak to Tim Grayson. Tell him it's McGarrett and Williams." stated Danny to the voice.

"One moment please" it answered.

The guy on the other end of the intercom was either a houseboy or a bodyguard. Steve was betting on 'bodyguard'.

Steve and Danny glanced toward one another; both men thinking, _Why would an ordinary businessman need a bodyguard?_

This wasn't some third world country. Business people here, legitimate ones, don't usually require such staff. Also, why would an ordinary businessman live in such palatial splendor? He knew there were people other than Donald Trump and Bill Gates who could afford such things but, he pretty much knew who they were. This is not that big an island.

_Lots of questions to ask this Grayson guy. Something's off about him,_ mused the tall man.

The door swung open and Grayson himself smiled out at them.

…

Angela Williams was, ultimately, a pragmatist. Her relationship hadn't worked out. So, oh-well. It was time to get this crap over with.

She and Nadine were to meet at the real estate office to sign the sale documents for their formerly shared house. Despite the many hours spent on the phone rehashing the past and lamenting the might-have-beens, the first sight of her ex-mate in at least a couple of months twisted a knife into her heart.

How could she have given herself so unwisely? Dammit, what was it about Nadine that still elicited that flip-flop feeling in her chest. No wonder Danny had such a hard time giving up on that bitch Rachel. Now she knows how it feels to struggle to unbreak something that can't possibly be repaired and ever be the same again.

They sat across from one another at the small conference table. Nadine couldn't even look her directly in the eye. Only the top of her strawberry-blonde head was visible as she looked down at the paperwork before her. Suddenly, Nadine looked up and sapphire blue eyes met hazel brown.

Thought the blonde woman,_ Dammit all to hell. How could it ever have come to this?_ Angie was the best thing that ever happened to her. How could she have been so stupid? She'd traded a lifetime of love for a one-night stand.

The blonde smiled at her ex uncertainly. Angela returned it with a cool smile of her own. She couldn't afford to let the cheating bitch see any chink in her armor. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Their meeting, while tense, was cordial. After forty-five minutes with the buyers and realtor, it was done. The responsible parties had affixed their signatures to the sale contract.

The buyers, a nice seeming young couple with one small child squirming in the seat next to them and another on the way were ecstatic to become first-time homeowners. Everyone shook hands and even gave brief hugs of congratulations.

Bidding the agent and the young couple good-bye, Angela and Nadine managed to walk out the door together. They paused on the sidewalk in front of the real estate office.

Angela smiled coldly and said, "Well, can't say it's been fun Nadine. I hope she was worth it."

The blonde woman only looked back at her sadly, her mouth moving to try to form the words. "Angie, I know I fucked up. I'm really, really sorry. I mean it."

"Sorry for what? That you got caught?" said Angela bitterly.

"No, no that's not what I mean." she almost pleaded, her sapphire eyes beginning to grow shiny with tears. "I never meant it to come to this. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

_No, no! Don't do it! Don't cave!_ thought the dark haired woman desperately as she fought to keep her own eyes dry. She only stared back at the beautiful, unfaithful woman who'd taken her love and turned it into an ash heap. There were no words for it. They wouldn't get past the constriction in her throat anyway.

Nadine finally broke the silence. " I'm glad you can move on, Ange. I ran into your brother Anthony at the market a couple of days ago. He said you'd found someone."

Angie had no idea what she was talking about. The words that wouldn't come because of pain were now lost to shock.

Nadine, thinking Angela's silence was an invitation for more conversation said, "To be honest, I'm a little surprised it's a guy but if he makes you happy . . ." her voice trailed off then she smiled genuinely. "I'm not really surprised he's a cop; a Hawaiian cop at that. Congratulations."

_Wait! WHAT! _Angela could only stare open-mouthed now. She was gonna kill Anthony. They'd never even find his body!

...

The blonde detective made the introductions. This was McGarrett's and Grayson's first actual meeting. The two men shook hands and Grayson ushered them across the marble floored foyer toward a large arched doorway. They entered the posh living room decorated in shades of beige and cream; a huge floor to ceiling window at the opposite end overlooking the blue water.

_Nice crib._ thought Danny, duly impressed with the surroundings. _How does this guy make his living again?_

"How's Kono?" asked Grayson before they'd even sat.

Steve could see the bodyguard hovering right outside the doorway; the bulge of a gun not quite hidden beneath his bright Hawaiian print shirt.

Grayson himself wore a floral silk shirt in bright fushia, greens and blues. Danny knew it was hideously expensive, but to him, it was just that - hideous. It may even rival some of Chin's extensive collection of Hawaiian horrors.

They declined the offer of a cool drink and were ushered to white upholstered chairs that were arranged around a huge glass and driftwood coffee table. An alabaster figurine of a large exotic bird of some sort sat upon it.

"She's gonna be OK." replied Steve coolly. "I'm surprised we didn't see you at the hospital."

"Well, when I called, they said she was still asleep. I figured she wouldn't even know I was there." he said with a smile. There was no defensiveness in his tone.

_He's a smug bastard_, thought Danny.

"Tell us about what happened." said Steve who, as usual, was sitting on the edge of the chair and leaning forward. Grayson looked completely relaxed. His tanned handsome face without any hint of worry as he crossed a long leg over the other and leaned back into the cushy chair.

He took a sip of his drink, something amber with ice cubes in it, and looked off into the distance as though trying to picture the scene from last night.

"We'd just arrived at the restaurant, La Mer, you know it?" he asked of McGarrett.

"Yeah, I've been there." replied the tall man.

Grayson looked the tiniest bit surprised. It was a brief flicker but Danny caught it.

"Well, I parked the car at the curb a couple of doors down. Didn't want any of those cowboy parking valets to get their hands on my ride, you know."

Danny only nodded in understanding. McGarrett gave no acknowledgment.

Said the SEAL a little impatiently, "Go on."

"We'd just started down the walkway toward the door of the restaurant. Kono was beside me when this guy stepped out of a dark doorway and before I knew it, I saw a flash and Kono fell against me."

"Can you describe the assailant?" asked Williams

"Yes and no. I saw someone in a dark hoodie but I didn't really get a look at his face."

"Is there anything you can remember about the shooter?" asked Steve. "Anything that would make him recognizable? A limp, tattoo - anything?"

"Oh!" said Grayson as though just remembering something. "I saw something on his hand when he thrust the gun toward us. Gang symbols or something like that, on his knuckles. It was very brief. As I said, it was dark but when he extended his hand to point the gun it was very briefly lit by the headlights of a passing car. It was just a quick flash mind you."

"You didn't mention that in your original statement to HPD. Why not?" asked McGarrett eyes narrowing slightly. Danny remained silent but took in every nuance of expression and body language.

"Didn't remember it until right now. Must have been the shock over Kono or something." said the importer trying to sound distressed and concerned - and not quite carrying it off in Danny's opinion.

Grayson sat straighter, making himself appear larger; more intimidating. His eyes bored into Steve's. Danny noted this with amusement. Angie always talked about stuff like this; how men were more like apes than they even realized. How they reverted to animal instincts by trying to out-macho each other - maybe even subconsciously.

He knew from his own experience what it was. It was gonna take way more than crap like this to impress either cop.

Steve remained still, his lips drawn into a thin line. He didn't seem to notice Grayson's subtle reaction to being questioned. Two alpha males in a cautious evaluation of each other. Too bad Angie's not here to watch, thought her brother with amusement.

Both men were tall dark and good looking; their builds similar. Grayson, of course, had a few more pounds on him right now but their builds were similar. A big difference between the two was where Steve had a deep, nearly luminous, quality to his eyes, Grayson's eyes were flat - like a snake's.

The importer was carefully groomed and polished; his clothing obviously expensive. Steve was attired in his usual uniform of cargos and a dark colored T-shirt that probably came in packs of three for $10.99 from Wal-Mart. Grayson sported what was probably a hundred dollar haircut. Steve's hair had remained uncut for the past few weeks and was looking a little shaggy; the grey strands that threaded it more pronounced than ever.

"Do you think you could identify the tattoo? We have a detailed catalog of this kind of gang body art at HPD. We'd like you to come in to look through it." said the detective.

"Of course. Whatever will help in finding whoever shot Kono." said Grayson cooperatively.

The arrangement was made to meet at HPD later that morning. Nothing else could be learned from Kono's boyfriend and they took their leave. Grayson showed them to the door, the armed man hovering discretely in the background.

As the door closed behind them, they glanced at one another without saying anything. Getting into the Camaro, Danny still 'allowed' to drive his own car, Steve belted himself in as he muttered darkly, "Cujo was right."

...

"Gosh Augie, it's awfully quiet with everyone gone." said Stella Williams sadly to her husband who sat in his armchair chewing on his pipe and stroking the purring cat that lay on his lap.

"Yeah" was all he said with a happy smile.

"Oh, come on. Tell me you don't miss the kids." said his wife somewhat crossly.

"Dearest, it's only been a day since everyone's left. Besides, Angie will be back later." he soothed.

"I hope she's OK. That Nadine broke her heart. She's having a hard time with it." said the policewoman's worried mother, closing her detective novel and turning off the reading lamp next to her.

"Angie's a tough girl, she'll move on eventually."

"I was kind of hoping . . . " began Stella wistfully.

"Hoping what dearest?" asked her husband. He didn't usually have to prompt anyone in his family to speak.

"I was kind of hoping she and Steven would hit it off. He's such a nice boy."

"Stella!" admonished Augie.

"I know, I know. Angie's stated her preference but . . . "

"Steve is a nice boy but even if Angie _did_ like him in that way, he's got a lot of issues. Whoever takes him on has a rocky road - no matter how nice he is."

"I know. I've heard Danny complaining about how reckless he is." she sighed

"Stella, I don't know if it's recklessness or something else." Augie petted Cujo on the head absently. The little cat let out a squeak that could be taken as approval and a request for more.

"Something else?" asked Stella, looking at her husband with her bright, chocolate colored gaze.

"Danny's been worried about him for awhile. I know when they arrived, Steve seemed, I don't know, here but not. Do you know what I mean?" he asked.

Stella always knew what he meant. She was his interpreter to the world. He relied on her for it and it made him love her even more - if that was even possible.

"But he was better when he left wasn't he?" she asked, her smooth brow gathered in concern.

"It would seem so. Danny didn't look so worried anyway." sighed Augie, Cujo purring loudly as his hand glided over the velvety fur.

"Danny will take care of him. They will take care of each other." said Stella with conviction.

"We should be glad Danny has someone who'll do that. I know he's still hung up on 'that woman'." said Augie with uncharacteristic venom. "Stuff like that makes it too easy to be distracted. It could be dangerous in their kind of work."

"Even if she's the most evil creature on earth, I'm sure Danny would think it was worth it. She gave us Gracie. " smiled Stella

"Yeah, probably so." agreed her husband as he thought of the sweet brown-haired girl who was so much better behaved than Andrew's tribe of little hooligans. Danny had been hell on wheels when he was a kid. Maybe Rachel did contribute something other than good looks to his granddaughter.

"Well, we should go to bed Augie. Andrew's going to drop the kids off for a few hours tomorrow while he and Donna go looking for a bigger house.

"Crap!" sighed Augie. "Those kids are a handful. I was hoping to get a couple more days off."

"You know you love them, Augustine Williams." smiled Stella.

The craggy man nodded that he agreed but mumbled under his breath, "If they'd stop having so many kids, they wouldn't need a bigger house."

"I heard that!" said Stella as she finished checking the locks on the doors and went toward the staircase.

He lifted Cujo off him and set him on the floor. The little animal let out a squawk of protest at having his warm napping place get up and leave.

"Come on Cujo. We have to get our rest. We have to deal with the 'invasion of the Barbarian hordes' tomorrow. I'm afraid you're going to spend most of the day in kitty-lockdown in the bedroom." he laughed. "Andrew and Donna would be very upset if you ate one of the Barbarians."

"Augie!" scolded Stella again from the top of the stairs.

"What? It's not like he understands what I'm saying."

"You'd better hope not." warned Stella as her husband climbed the stairs, a little cat following him upward.

...

Daniel, as usual, ignored his parents and did whatever the hell he wanted. Right now, what he wanted most was to see what was on the other side of the fence. He'd always been the most adventurous of the brood and they had to watch him like a hawk.

Cujo observed curiously from the safety of the porch. This one small human had drifted off from its herd. Maybe now was the time to stalk it. At least it wasn't screeching right now.

The little cat had slipped unnoticed from the bedroom when the door had been left ajar. Stella had rushed out of the room after fetching an extra hat for Donna and had neglected to shut it securely. One of the kids had taken his mother's knit cap to use as a storage bag for extra snowballs he'd planned on using on the ride home. Luckily, they'd disarmed him before their departure but her headgear was a soggy mess.

All Cujo had to do was to hook a paw through the small gap and pull. It swung open silently and he trotted out to follow her down the stairs and through the front door unnoticed.

As the little cat watched with curiosity, the errant child spied a loose board on the wooden fence that separated the two properties on this, the driveway side, of the house. Grasping it with surprisingly strong little hands, the boy tugged at it with small grunts of effort. He doggedly pulled on the wobbly plank until, with a small cracking noise, it came away from its more securely fastened brothers.

"Yeah!" exclaimed the curly headed boy as the portal to the unknown yawned invitingly before him. Without any hesitation, he crawled through the child-sized opening to discover the new world that awaited him.

Cujo, completely unnoticed, slipped silently off the porch to begin his hunt. He might be able to bring it down but he doubted they'd let him eat it. Maybe he'd just drag it back as a gift for the man who chewed on the stick.

Everyone was engaged in securing the departing children in their car seats. Only two of them were old enough and heavy enough to not require the cumbersome contraptions and could ride belted in like adults.

In the commotion of departure, no one had yet noticed that Daniel wasn't in the group of siblings waiting to be fastened into the car.

This yard was big and snow covered. There was pretty much nothing of interest except maybe those funny tracks in the white blanket. They were all around the perimeter of the fence like someone had been walking along it on the inside of the yard. Daniel began to walk in the trail left by whoever had made it.

The snow was deeper here. No one had been trampling on it or playing football or chasing each other through it yet. The trail stood out starkly against the still pristine surface. In a couple places he could see the distinct imprint of whatever had trampled the pathway.

_It looks like bear tracks!_ He'd seen those on Animal Planet – on that show about grizzly bears! _Wow!_ Now, he had to follow them to find that bear then he'd go tell his mom and dad about it. _They'll sure be surprised that a bear lives right next door to Grandma and Grandpa!_

Cujo stepped cautiously through the opening in the fence. The little human had come this way. Now that it was alone, it would be much easier to pounce on. The tall man or the man who chewed on the stick weren't here to stop him this time.

He tread lightly on the frozen surface beneath his paws, concentrating on the hunt.

_Uh-oh, what is that smell? I smelled it before at the place with the bubbles that smelled like flowers and the barking dogs. It was evil. It has to be a dog!_

The little cat looked apprehensively around; there was only the small human in sight. He didn't see a dog but he could smell it. It was here somewhere.

Suddenly, he heard that horrible screeching again. _That small human is so loud!_

He looked across the snow covered yard and there in the corner was his prey but it was being stalked by someone else, a very, very large dog.

_Hey, the small human is mine! The dog can't have it! I HATE DOGS!_

With a screech of his own, he charged the large, (and very surprised canine). Daniel was screaming bloody murder as, finally, someone had noticed he wasn't part of the herd. Turning toward the sound of the screaming child, the chilling sound of that cat and now, the furious growling and barking of a dog, Augie and Andrew sprinted toward its source.

"Daniel!" cried Andrew, "Stay there! Keep away from the dog!"

He vaulted the fence with his father right behind him. Cujo now had the dog's complete attention. The child was forgotten by both feline and canine opponents. The others rushed to the fence, Donna screaming in fright at her imperiled child.

The dog was a brindle shepherd mix of some sort who weighed at least sixty pounds. He was now in a standoff with a small snarling cat who weighed maybe five or six pounds after a big meal. The shepherd looked for an opening between teeth and claws and found none. The cat wasn't backing down.

This was one tough kitty!

Distracted from the screeching child, the dog advanced on the furiously growling and fuzzed-up cat. With its grey fur standing on end it looked twice as big but still wasn't quite that intimidating as far as size went. What _was_ intimidating were yellow eyes that looked black with menace and ears that lay flat against its head. It hissed loudly and spat at him. Hmm. He'd have to be careful.

_This dog is dead meat!_ thought Cujo, (never mind that it was ten times larger.) _The mutt is going down!_

The dog lunged and Cujo shot into the air as though on springs and raked a razor like claw across the leathery black nose. The shepherd yelped and backed up; blinking in what seemed like surprise.

He barked furiously at the hissing snarling little animal but it wouldn't retreat. Maybe this is gonna be harder than he thought.

With a screech that would forever haunt the nightmares of anyone within earshot, the little cat launched himself straight upward to come down right in front of its snapping jaws. Bouncing forward on his toes, he charged with the speed of a furry little bullet and with a vengeance, sank both sets of front claws into the dog's tender snout.

The dog yelped in pain and turned to retreat. The cat vaulted over the big head and came down like a lion on an antelope; sinking his sharp little fangs into the brindle fur and raking his hind claws down the dog's back as the front ones anchored into his skin like fish hooks.

The dog screeched and stampeded toward the house; Cujo clinging to its back like a derby jockey. Andrew took the opportunity to scoop up his child and ran back to the fence that separated the two homes to hand the squalling Daniel to his distraught mother Donna.

Augie ran crunching through the snow after the dog and its rider, calling to Cujo to let go of his mount. Hearing the loud ruckus, the dog's owner - a visiting son of the Williams' neighbor - still in his bathrobe, rushed down the front steps. Quickly taking in the scene, he ran toward his pet yelling "Sarge! Get over here, NOW!"

Sarge was otherwise occupied and paid no attention to the order. The fierce cat was still clinging to him like a vicious wad of velcro. The only thing saving him from a major mauling or death was his thick winter coat and the wide leather collar he wore around his besieged neck.

Yelping and wild-eyed, the dog scrambled frantically across the snowy yard, his be-robed owner and Augie chasing behind them, calling to cat and canine to cease and desist.

The fleeing shepherd nearly broke the land speed record in his crazed flight. He blazed an orbited path around the inside perimeter of the board fence. After their second lap, Augie, realizing the folly of chasing the animals stood in place expectantly waiting for them to run past.

As the still screaming dog flew bye on his third lap, the craggy man deftly grabbed Cujo by the scruff and plucked him from the unfortunate Sarge's back. The cat's claws were still fastened into the dog's skin and it took a strong tug, combined with the velocity of the dog to disengage them. Tufts of brindle fur floated away in the cold air as the cat struggled and snarled as he was so abruptly interrupted in his destruction of the enemy.

"You won! Knock it off now! The doggie's had enough!" laughed Augie trying to keep himself from being sliced by the highly frustrated and still dangerous bundle of claws and teeth.

Sarge, realizing he was now riderless, scurried for safety behind his not very amused owner who stood breathing heavily on the front walkway, his breath condensing into puffs of white in the frigid air.

"I'm so sorry!" he apologized between gasps. "I'll make sure he's inside for the next couple of days until we leave. He's never been any trouble before. I don't think he'd have harmed the boy but I apologize for the incident. Is everyone OK?"

"We're fine. That cat made sure nothing happened. There was no harm done. It was pretty scary but Daniel shouldn't have come into the yard in the first place." said a still shaky sounding Andrew.

"Yeah, that's one tough little kitty." agreed Doug, Sarge's owner as he bent to examine the damage to his trembling dog and saw the deep fang marks in the leather collar. "I'll make sure Sarge is watched when we let him out into the yard. I'm really sorry."

"We'll make sure the fence is repaired." called Augie, still struggling with the hissing, growling, squirming Cujo.

"We're good. Don't worry." said Andrew "Have a nice holiday Doug." he said as he put his arms around his shaken wife who held the now only sniffling Daniel. At least he hadn't been injured. His other adventures had made the ER doctor at the hospital near them comment that he was going to start charging by the yard for bandages after the third time in a year the overly-adventurous little scallywag had been brought in to be patched up after one of his misadventures. They'd even been contacted by Child Protective Services to make sure nothing was amiss and that Daniel wasn't being harmed intentionally.

At first, it had angered Andrew and Donna before they realized someone was only taking the correct precautions to protect their child. It was still kind of embarrassing.

...

That night, Cujo enjoyed a steak. It was a big, bloody piece of sirloin, courtesy of Andrew and Donna.

Stella cooked it rare and Augie divided it up into bite size pieces before putting it in the china dish next to his chair. He smiled down at the loudly purring cat who was busy enjoying his meal.

"It's a wonder you didn't set a place for him at the table." clucked Stella

"Would, if he knew how to use a knife and fork." chuckled her husband.

"I've no doubt." she sighed as she too smiled at the hero of the moment. The rescuer of the their precious grandchild - that little walking disaster, Daniel. Cujo blissfully chewed the nearly raw meat. It was almost as good as mouse.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC


	19. Heavenly Mist

Cujo II - Chapter 19

**Here's another. At least one more chapter to go. Not much excitement but it sets it up for the action to come. Still have to get Cujo back to Hawaii. Think I've figured it out. We'll see in the next chapter.**

**As usual, not betaed. All mistakes are mine. Kind of rushed this so there may be even more of those than usual. Please let me know what you think of the effort and thank you so much for the alerts, favorites, reviews and comments you've been so kind to post.**

**Disclaimer: Just trying to stay out of trouble until the new season starts and fires up my imagination. Until then, I'll use it to pretend that I do own them and make a fabulous living from this. A warped mind is a terrible thing to waste.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Heavenly Mist

Angela smiled at the sight of her father and the little cat curled up on the couch together. The storm had passed and sunshine flooded through the window to bathe them in its golden light.

Cujo's coat looked iridescent in the bright light; coruscating tones of blue and mauve reflected in its silky texture. The soft fur was such a temptation to touch. No wonder the little shithead was so dangerous. It was just a lure, like the sweet scent of a pitcher plant before it closed on its prey or a piece of cheese in the spring loaded jaws of a mouse trap.

They'd have to get her dad a pet. Maybe one who wouldn't rip your face off it it took a notion to do so. Surely, all cats weren't like that . . . were they?

She knew her father still missed Freckles. They all missed the friendly, slobbery little dog. It was time to get another animal. Maybe one who didn't like candy. Her mom had voiced her displeasure, (read that jealousy), to her one day as they sat at the kitchen table having a cup of coffee together. Gazing out at the side yard, they saw Augie split a Snicker's bar in two and give half of it to Freckles. Both man and beast chewed contentedly as Stella Williams voiced her opinion of her husband's generosity in sharing his treat with the little dog.

_Yup, time to get a cat._

They'd gotten a call from Steve apologizing for not yet being able to get Cujo back on a plane to Honolulu. She knew he was frustrated in his attempts to get the little cat home again. Assuring him that her dad was more than happy to continue his caretaking of the little barracuda as Danny called him, she told him the story of Cujo's rescue of her nephew.

Steve was gratified to hear it. She told him Cujo could now do no wrong in the eyes of her family so there was no need to worry that they were being imposed upon. He thanked her for the information and reminded her again she was welcome to visit anytime.

Now that she had the money to do so, maybe she should visit Hawaii. Sunshine in winter isn't all that bad. McGarrett never did give her an answer about Mary. She'd have to investigate the woman herself. _Yeah, sunshine in winter . . ._

_..._

Steve slammed his desk phone down in frustration. Hawaii has one of the most restrictive sets of agricultural import rules of any country or state in the world. It was also hard to think of Cujo as being lumped in with fruits and vegetables in the Department of Agriculture forms spread out on his desk before him.

He couldn't expect Danny's parents to keep the cat much longer. He knew of what the little wolverine was capable. The quarantine period could be up to three months!

It would be cruel and unusual punishment for anyone to be caretaker of the cantankerous little animal for long; besides . . . he missed his cat though he'd never admit it, (especially to Danny). He missed the soothing purr when he awoke in the middle of the night with the fading scenes of a nightmare still burned into his retinas. He missed the peace it brought him to be able to stroke the soft coat and feel the rumbling vibration of contentment. At least he could make somebody happy. Even if it was only a cat.

He sighed as he ran his hands through his recently shorn hair. It was one of the first things he'd taken care of on his return. At the airport, he'd been sure Lori was going to her hands through it. He didn't think he was that vain to think it but it was best to remove the temptation.

Kono had been released from the hospital and though still a little wan, seemed on her way to a full recovery. For now, she had some down time. Unlike her boss, she didn't feel the need to work nearly 24-7 and didn't mind the hiatus. It was too bad she had to get shot to get it.

The Cujo issue was put on the back burner for the moment as he put his mind to the task at hand. Max had finally gotten a tentative ID on one of the four attackers who'd died in the crash. The M.E. had been continually checking descriptions from reports filed in the past few weeks and had possibly found a match.

Someone's landlady had filed a missing person's report after not seeing her tenant around for several weeks and she'd gone looking for the rent. She became concerned when she let herself into the apartment and realized no one had been there for quite some time. The woman had become somewhat friendly with her tenant and knew he had planned on staying awhile since he'd just gotten a job.

Realizing the man, Robert Gunderson, hadn't been there for a least a month though his possessions remained, she had looked through the small apartment. She'd neglected to tell the police that one of the possessions was a large, hungry, python sleeping in the middle of the kitchen floor. She called animal control, (after screaming for a few minutes first), and had the snake removed.

Even she knew it was illegal to keep snakes of any sort in Hawaii. The state actually prided itself on having only two kinds of snakes within its territory: one a poisonous sea snake and the other a very small, harmless one that resembled a large worm. As many others, she had an aversion to slithery, crawly things and refused to dwell on it. Mention of the snake had never made it into any police report. Even thinking about it gave her goosebumps the size of Kilauea.

...

The clouds scudded across the sky; a shadow play on the damp earth below. It was again warm and humid. The nearly misty air glided over his skin in a moisture laden caress. Steve reveled in it, finally feeling warmth all the way through his still too lean body. Being home again, even with the threat still hanging over them was very nearly heaven. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed it. How anyone could prefer the bitter cold and the smoke filled air of winter in New Jersey he had no idea.

Beside him, his partner tugged at his own shirt disgusted that the fabric was sticking to his sweaty skin. He missed the crisp air of winter and the smell of wood smoke. He missed sitting in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, a cup of cocoa or some stronger beverage in his hand as he watched the comforting glow and heard the crackle of the flames in the hearth. How someone could prefer this steaming pile of lava he had no idea.

Steve and Danny pulled up to the front of the ageing but neatly kept complex. Quickly finding the the small sign beside the door that identified it as the manager's unit, they knocked and announced themselves.

"Five-0. We're here to speak to the manager." said Steve in his 'official' voice, (which, honestly, wasn't that much different from his unofficial voice).

A rather substantial woman of statuesque height and more than the usual allotment of chins opened the door. She wore a bright red and white muumuu that had large hibiscus flowers rampant across the print. If she wasn't already a formidable presence by bulk alone, the muumuu would have made her hard to miss.

Danny idly wondered how many yards of the fabric had been required to make the garment. It loosely billowed about her large body and made her appear even even bulkier.

Her bright, dark eyes took them in and a frown creased her smooth face.

"Hey! Five-0! I heard about you guys. Why are you at my door?" she asked in a slightly annoyed tone, hands on ample hips.

"We're here about the missing person's report filed regarding a tenant, Robert Gunderson." answered Steve.

"Are you Mrs. Kuehu?" asked the blonde detective.

"Yes, I am _Miss_ Kanoelani Kuehu, da one who filed da report. Why would a missing person case send you to me?" she demanded, not at all intimidated by the fact that two state cops with badges and guns stood on the small landing in front of her door.

"Kanoelani, that means heavenly mist, doesn't it?" smiled Steve, trying to charm the large woman into a more cooperative frame of mind.

Danny almost rolled his eyes. He knew how this worked and it usually worked more often than not. The large woman smiled a huge white smile, her teeth perfect enough for a toothpaste commercial.

"Why yes, officer but you can just call me Lani." she trilled; a startlingly delicate sound from such a solid presence. Steve smiled back at her and blinked his eyes, (Danny would say batted his eyelashes but that would get his ass kicked).

"Very fitting name." said McGarrett.

Danny almost brought up his breakfast at that one. _Well . . . whatever works._

"Mr. Gunderson is a person of interest in an ongoing case, ma'am . . . err Miss." supplied Danny as the woman's eyes took in his partner appreciatively.

"Oh", she said with a bit of distress in her voice, her round face looking surprised, "I doubt he could do anyting bad. He's trying to get his life together so he could get custody of his children again. He seemed like such an 'olu 'olu kane, "

Steve automatically translated for his partner, "nice man." as Danny shook his head in acknowledgment, already guessing that's what her words probably meant.

"Could you show us the apartment?" asked/ordered McGarrett.

"Of course, let me get da key, officer." with that she turned back toward her apartment with a swish of fabric. The scent of gardenia perfume floated through the screened doorway. In a moment she was back with a jailor type key ring in her meaty hand. The large metal ring held numerous keys.

"Dis way, gentlemen." she said as she lead them across a grassy courtyard. The area was lush and inviting in spite of the chaotic assortment of mismatched garden furniture.

She puffed a little as she grabbed the railing and hoisted her bulk up the metal stairway, the steel holding the pebble finished steps creaked and groaned under her weight. As they followed the woman up the stairway, Danny felt as though he were getting motion sickness; all he could see before him was a swaying ocean of red and white.

Both men turned in alarm to each other, wondering if their additional weight on the beleaguered stairway would cause it to collapse in a heap of over-fatigued metal and broken steps.

It held up well enough and now it was the second floor walkway's turn. It too trembled and creaked but held as they came to an aqua painted door with a tarnished brass number four on it.

Not bothering to knock, she deftly turned the key and stepped to the side of the doorway. Though she tried to get out of their way, her bulk made them have to squeeze past her. She smiled devilishly at McGarrett as his body brushed against hers when he slipped past her.

Danny was almost sure he could see a blush spreading on his partner's face as he mumbled "Excuse me." at the unintentional contact.

The detective smiled to himself. Another conquest for SuperSEAL. Let's see . . . that makes at least four: a woman on an aircraft carrier thousands of miles away, a committed lesbian, the governor's watchdog, and a woman who outweighs him by at least a hundred-fifty pounds or so . . . and oh yeah, the governor's aide - David. _Way to go Steven._

They entered a relatively bare space. An old TV and a couch that had seen better days the most prominent pieces in it.

The kitchen was nearly as bare. The faint, lingering smell of rotted food hung in the air. The refrigerator door was ajar to air it out. With raised brows, they looked at the landlady.

"I had to get da spoiled food out of dere. Between dat smell and da snake it was . . .

"Excuse me, snake?" asked McGarrett, forgetting his previous discomfort and turning his laser focus onto the big woman.

"Yeah, a big one! Right here in da middle of da kitchen floor!" she gestured toward the now bare linoleum.

Danny who had gone to search the bedroom, called to him, "Steve, look here."

Turning quickly to walk toward the bedroom, leaving the woman named Heavenly Mist standing in the small kitchen that seemed smaller still with her presence, McGarrett went to see what his partner had found in the other room.

Danny stood next to a wire cage with a heat lamp rigged over it. One of the side panels of the wire mesh had been pushed out. Whatever had been held inside was now on the outside. It rested on a table next to a smaller cage, the wooden top of which was lying on the carpeted floor. _Uhh oh._

Danny shivered at the thought of dealing with another situation like the one at the warehouse a few weeks ago. A _river_ of booze wouldn't take away the creepy crawly feeling this time.

Almost as if on cue, a large hairy tarantula crawled slowly out from under the unmade bed. It was one of those bird-eating ones they'd seen at the warehouse.

Lani screeched in fright and, though both men pretty much wanted to do the same, they managed to control themselves. The big woman grabbed onto McGarrett as though he was her security blanket. Danny could actually hear the air leaving the tall man's lungs as the woman screamed louder and tightened her hold on his partner.

Danny quickly grabbed the metal mesh waste basket that sat next to the nightstand and trash and all, upended it over the creature.

McGarrett, still trying to extricate himself from the death grip of the screaming woman, finally managed with a grunt of effort to push her away.

She stood, dark eyes wide in horror; a scream still frozen on her lips before squeaking loudly, "I was in da room with dat ting, brah! It couda jumped on me!"

_Would have to be an Olympic caliber jump! _thought Danny, trying not to laugh aloud at his still flustered partner who now stood on nearly the other side of the room from the frightened woman, (and the creature).

"Well, it's OK now Miss Kuehu." soothed Danny. "Maybe you should get someone to check through the place for you though. Just to be sure all the animals are accounted for."

"Yeah. I'll get my kaikaina's kid to do it. He's kind of creepy himself but he likes tings like dis."

"That's a good idea." chimed in McGarrett, finally getting his breath back after the woman's bear hug.

Danny picked up a framed picture from the nightstand. It was a photo of four smiling people: a man in his early thirties with light blonde hair, a brunette woman who looked to be a local of about the same age and two beautiful children who were obviously a genetic combination of their parents. The boy had a bowl type haircut and the girl had her dark hair in pigtails.

"Da keikis never came around." said Lani sadly. Robert really missed dem. He was trying to get his visitation rights back. Wasn't even mad at his wife. Said it was all his fault."

She looked sadly from one to the other, "He's dead isn't he?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. It's not confirmed yet but yeah, probably." said Danny hesitantly, hoping the woman wouldn't cry and try to use his partner as a pillow. He doubted the recently healed ribs would hold up to another of the woman's embraces.

The tall man had carefully moved away from her and was now going through the closet to see if there was anything else that might be of help in their investigation. It appeared Gunderson had few possessions. There didn't seem to be anything of further interest.

The rattle of paper under the overturned wastebasket that still sat in the middle of the floor startled them. The creature wanted out of its makeshift cage. McGarrett found a couple of heavy books and placed them on top of the container. There was no sense taking any chances the thing would muscle its way out and escape.

"Uhh, you need to call animal control to get that thing out of here." said McGarrett.

"Couldn't you just take it out for me?" pleaded the large woman, batting her eyelashes at the tall man.

"Lani, much as we'd like to help, we've got to get back to HQ. I'm sure that animal control would be happy to remove it for you. It's not going anywhere for the moment." assured McGarrett. (Angelina Jolie, Scarlet Johansen and Jennifer Lopez all pleading and batting their eyelashes together couldn't have gotten him to get near the creature). Enough was enough.

Almost ashamed of himself for the lack of chivalry, as he turned to leave making sure his partner was right behind him, his eyes fell on something that sat on the nightstand where Danny had gotten the photo. He took a step forward and picked up a business card from the scarred top.

There, with an illustration of some sort of colorful snake bent to shape the letter Z in the logo, was the name Dr. Karl Charteris, Director of Reptiles, Honolulu Zoo.

The tall man froze, a nearly electric jolt of alarm shooting through him. That was the husband of Cujo's vet, the guy who'd rescued everyone at the pet clinic that day . . . _WTF?_

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC


	20. Choices  Wise and Otherwise

Cujo II - Chapter 20

**Here's another. Cujo not much present in this chapter. He's saving his strength for the next one. He'll need it.**

**Disclaimer: If life were truly fair, I'd have been to Hawaii long ago - if only to breathe the same air of who and what belong to CBS.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Choices - Wise and Otherwise

Miss Kuehu supplied them with enough information to contact Gunderson's family in California to request dental records. Max said there was enough jawbone remaining intact with teeth for comparison. Since Gunderson had been driving the Olds when it overturned and burst into flame; the rest of the description was an educated guess.

Danny _almost_ felt for the man involved in the assassination attempt. He was just a guy trying to get his shit together so he could get his kids back. To that, he could relate.

Of course, Gunderson certainly hadn't made the wisest choice in his way of going about it, considering he was chauffeuring a car full of potential assassins. He'd paid the ultimate price for it. Now, his kids would never see their father again.

The blonde detective sighed staring out the passenger window at the swiftly retreating clouds as they turned left onto Ala Moana Boulevard toward their destination. After a brief shower, the sun had come out again. Steam rose off the roadway as McGarrett steered the Camaro through the Honolulu streets.

They were on their way to the zoo to question Kurt Charteris. The tall man drummed his fingers on the wheel as his mind raced with thoughts of what had happened before they'd left Hawaii and what had occurred during their absence that might tie the man into it all.

The only unifying clues were the reptiles and the arachnids. After the bust at that warehouse and the creatures found at Gunderson's apartment, it wasn't that far a stretch that the director of reptiles at the Honolulu Zoo could be involved in the animal import business. The smugglers would need someone with his expertise to help them sort and maintain their exotic merchandise.

Five-0 had surely put a dent in the multi-million dollar trade of illegal animals. Maybe whoever headed the enterprise had put out a contract on them? Kamekona had heard nothing about a contract. He was the first one they'd always checked with about stuff like this. The big man knew things someone on the straight and narrow shouldn't know but they trusted him; the SEAL in particular after he'd gone to the man for help during the whole Jameson fiasco. The shave ice man had come through for him when he needed it. He was part of Five-0's extended ohana.

The zoo was crowded today and the lot was nearly full. They blithely parked in a fire lane. HFD and HPD would recognize the vehicle even though it had no official markings - so no worries about getting towed for illegal parking. Flashing their badges to gain entrance, they made their way past flocks of brightly colored exotic birds in the large aviary. They passed enclosures of noisy monkeys and enclosures of quieter marsupials before getting to the larger ones with the big cats sleeping in the shade, too hot to bother to look dangerous for the tourists.

Crowds of sweaty, sunburned haolis competed with not quite so wilted looking locals at the concession stands for the cool refreshments they vended.

If they weren't in such a rush, Danny would have been one of those in the long queues seeking rehydration. He felt like someone had soaked a heavy woolen blanket in warm water, thrown it over his head and then ordered him to breath through it. He looked over at his partner who seemed to not even notice the heat though his skin shone with sweat.

They had to trudge through the smothering humidity nearly all the way to the back of the grounds where a flagstone walkway lead to a one-story stucco finished complex with cartoon like animals painted on it; each animal holding some sort of sign to point the way to various departments.

The sign for the Director of Reptiles was, of course, hung around the neck of a large, neon striped snake. It had a goofy grin, _sort of like Steve's,_ thought Danny, then had a second thought telling him he really needed to get out of this heat.

They made a left turn on the walkway and located the appropriate office. The door had been propped open and a paper littered desk was just inside to the right of it. Paperweights fashioned in the shapes of animals were keeping the piles of paper from taking flight like gulls in the breeze that flowed energetically through the open portal. As far as cooling things down, it wasn't much help. To Danny it felt like a soggy breath from hell.

A chime sounded as they crossed the infrared beam set into the doorframe. It alerted someone as yet unseen. A young sounding male voice said "Be right with you" from a doorway beyond as there shortly emerged an acne faced kid of eighteen or so wiping his hands on a towel as he approached.

"May I help you?" he smiled, showing clear plastic braces - the kind that were supposed to be invisible but weren't.

"We're here to speak with Kurt Charteris." announced McGarrett.

"Doctor Charteris is busy right now, is there something I can help you with?" asked the kid politely.

"Tell him it's Steve McGarrett and it's official business." said the tall man pinning the kid with an intimidating look that usually scared the crap out of whoever he graced with it. To add to the intimidation, he pointed to the badge clipped onto his belt. One would have to be blind to miss the thigh holster fastened just below it in which was nestled the very lethal looking Sig.

The kid gulped, then remembering to maintain his macho as only a kid could do, calmed his features saying, "Sure, I'll get him for you." then swaggered off with seeming nonchalance.

Danny snorted at the kid's display but they'd all been there at one time. His time was when he was fifteen and he'd been grabbed by the local cops for smoking dope in the park with his friends. He'd been, of course, scared shitless but was all Jersey attitude none-the-less. Some guys never grew out of it. Though he didn't appreciate it at the time, he now realized he was lucky to have parents who actually gave a damn and threatened to ground him for life.

By twenty, he'd decided it was time to get a little more serious about his life's direction and entered the police academy. It was a good decision; he'd never looked back. Suddenly, it occurred to him that by that same age, Steve was already most of the way through his military training and may even have earned the macho swagger of which he was still sometimes capable. It certainly gave perspective to the difference in their backgrounds and the decisions that brought them together at this point in their lives.

Danny roused from his contemplation when after another moment, Charteris himself came out the doorway into which the kid had just disappeared. The doctor was also wiping his hands on a towel. Smiling at Steve, he extended his hand to shake.

Danny inwardly winced, not wanting to know what type of 'reptile whatever' the hand had been touching only moments before. He wasn't a germ freak or anything but . . .

"Hey! Steve!" greeted the tanned blonde man. "You delivering my beer?" he smiled.

Steve smiled back as they shook hands. "Corona wasn't it?" asked the commander. "Still haven't gotten around to it sorry. Been out of town. I'll be sure to get it to you in the next couple of days. I have to visit the clinic to get some information from Pat about Cujo. I'll leave it with her." switching gears, he gestured toward Danny, "This is my partner, Detective Danny Williams." he said. Danny extended his hand in greeting as it too was warmly clasped by the snake doctor.

"Nice to meet you detective . . . I think."

Charteris smiled only tentatively this time as he was beginning to realize this may actually be an 'official' visit. "No worries about the beer but what's up?" he said, "Cujo giving you a hard time?"

"No, not Cujo this time. You know a guy named Robert Gunderson?" asked the tall man getting directly to the point.

"I do or rather, I did, but he hasn't been around for at least three or four weeks or so. Didn't even come in to pick up his last paycheck."

"So, he worked for the zoo?" asked Danny

"Yeah for a couple of months. He was really good with the stock; smart and careful. I was surprised when he didn't show up for his shift. He seemed to enjoy the work. Nice guy. He OK?"

"Probably not." answered McGarrett grimly as he carefully watched Charteris for his reaction.

"What happened?" asked the snake doctor, forehead creasing and brows drawing together in an expression of concern.

"The reason he didn't come to work is because he may have been involved in something very serious." answered Danny, not yet giving anything away.

"Do you know anything about it?" asked McGarrett

"About what? I don't know what 'it' is. Do you think I'm involved in something?" asked the man with alarm that sounded genuine.

"We're asking you." was Steve's curt answer, his dark blue eyes fixed on Charteris's worried face.

"Let's sit down for this." said the doctor, gesturing to the moulded plastic chairs in front of his desk. They took their seats as Charteris, with a sigh, sat heavily behind the cluttered desk and ran a hand through his thick bushy hair.

"Robert seemed something of a lost soul. We don't pay much here so we get either entry level kids like Justin," he gestured toward the doorway to the back, "_or_, we get people who've fallen to the bottom and are trying to make their way back up. Robert was one of the latter."

"Why?" was Danny's simple question, having already half-formed the opinion the man behind the desk probably wasn't involved in the assassination attempts. That or the guy was an excellent actor. Danny liked to trust his intuition but it wouldn't be the first time he'd witnessed a convincing performance.

"He had been into drugs. He confessed to me during his interview that he'd gone through rehab for heroin addiction. He'd lost everything: wife, kids, house . . . the whole enchilada. He was trying to get his life back on track. He seemed sincere. We don't use any drugs in the reptile house that could possibly be of any temptation so I gave him a job."

"Was there anything you know of that could have gotten him off that track?" asked Steve, also forming the tentative opinion that Charteris was on the up-and-up but he knew his record for trusting people of late wasn't that reliable.

"I know he was going to need some money to pay his lawyer for an upcoming custody hearing. I'd talked to Pat about it and she agreed we could loan him part of it. We never got to make the offer though. He disappeared before we brought it up."

"That was nice of you." said McGarrett. He'd really liked Cujo's vet. He truly hoped that neither she nor her husband were part of the smuggling operation.

"Why didn't you report him missing?" asked Danny - another good question.

"Well, when he left, some of our supplies may have left with him. You know, a couple sacks of food pellets, some old heat lamps, stuff like that. We don't have much anyone would want unless they had reptiles themselves but I figured maybe he'd had a relapse or something and was trying to come up with enough money for a fix. Unfortunately, it happens sometimes." he said sadly. "I tried calling him but the number was disconnected. I actually went to his apartment to knock on his door but there was no answer and a very large and intimidating woman said he wasn't home. She was a little hostile so I gave up and chalked it up to experience." he sighed.

Steve shook his head thinking, _Here's a guy who worked with some of the deadliest, (and creepiest), creatures in the world and he let a woman in a muumuu intimidate him? _he absently rubbed a hand over his sore ribs.

"So, you met Miss Kuehu I take it?" smiled Danny.

"Uhh, I guess so. It was quite an experience." smiled Charteris in return.

"Yeah, you'll have to have Steve tell you about his meeting with the woman." laughed Danny as his partner gave him an annoyed glance.

Trying to ignore this new potential for embarrassment, the SEAL asked, "You ever see Gunderson with anyone?"

"No, just a couple guys in an old car when they picked him up after his shift. It was actually the last time I saw him."

"Can you describe the men and/or the car?" asked Danny as McGarrett leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes focused like lasers on the doctor.

"Can't describe the men other than there were three of them. They all had dark hair, they might have been locals but I couldn't say for sure. The car was an old one, dark color, blue or black, maybe a Buick or an Oldsmobile.

"Thanks for your help Karl. We'll call you if we have any further questions." said McGarrett rising to shake hands. Danny thought he saw a slight wobble in his friend's movement to stand but didn't say anything as they bade their goodbyes.

"I'll remember to get that beer to you. I have to get some information from Pat about Cujo, I'll leave it with her."

"Cujo, OK?" asked Charteris about his wife's terror of a patient.

"Yeah, he's more than OK." answered Danny for his partner. "The little piranha's got his own personal chef and he's eating steak for dinner these days."

"Well, better _that_ than human flesh." chuckled the doctor. "I know Janet and Joanie haven't had to make any visits to urgent care lately."

McGarrett just shook his head and smiled. _Great, now Danny has someone else on his side to support his opinion of Cujo. They just don't understand._

...

They made their way back across the zoo grounds to the steaming parking lot and the waiting Camaro. After unlocking the doors and letting the superheated air out, Steve handed the keys to Danny without saying anything and walked around to the passenger side to ease himself quietly into the seat and buckle up.

Danny looked at him non-plussed. _Rambo must really feel like crap if he's letting me drive my own car_.

"You OK?" asked the worried blonde as he got into the driver's seat and automatically adjusted it forward. He looked closely at his partner who now sat with his head back and eyes closed.

"I'm good." was the brief answer, (of course).

"Don't give me your usual bullshit McGarrett. You are actually letting me drive my own car. What's wrong?" demanded Danny.

"I told you, I'm fine . . . maybe just a little . . . umm woozy."

"OK, let's get somewhere cooler and get re-hydrated. How you people can run around in this steambath without passing out from heatstroke, I have no friggin' idea."

He started the engine and cranked up the AC to the 'frostbite' setting. "Did you eat today Rambo?"

"Don't remember." was the brief reply from the subdued SEAL which in all probability meant he hadn't.

Danny muttered something to himself as he put the car into gear and steered it toward the nearest restaurant offering air-conditioning and real food - no fucking pineapple pizza, pineapple muffins, pineapple tofu . . . REAL FOOD!

...

McGarrett seemed to perk up after getting into a cooler and drier atmosphere. They ordered tall glasses of iced-tea and Danny made sure Steve actually ate something at least a little substantial. They had time to discuss what they'd just heard from Kurt Charteris.

"You believe him?" asked McGarrett taking a long drink from his chilled glass.

"Yeah, he seems to be telling the truth." said the detective.

"I have a hard time believing anyone these days." sighed McGarrett.

"Yeah, I can see why. Too bad we can't use your usual technique of dangling people off the edges of rooftops."

Ignoring his partner's snark, Steve continued, "I used to think I was a good judge of people but I found out I'm not. Kinda put a dent in my self-confidence." he laughed humorlessly.

"Don't be hard on yourself. Jenna had us all fooled."

"I wasn't even talking about Jenna. I think she just got in over her head. I'm not sure I wouldn't have made the same decision if I had been in her place. If any one of you had been held by Wo Fat, I'd have done whatever I had to do to get you out."

"I know but you'd have done it without betraying another member of your family."

"Some of us aren't as strong as others." said McGarrett, "Some of us only _appear_ to be strong. It's all smoke and mirrors when you get down to it."

"Are we having one of 'those' conversations Steven? The ones where you feel like crap about something but never talk about it directly?"

"Maybe."

Danny, without thinking how it might look to others, reached across the table to lay a hand on top of his partner's. He left it there briefly as Steve looked up at him startled at the contact but didn't move his hand from under Danny's.

"Steven, don't start doubting yourself again. You are the most annoying sonofabitch I've ever met but you are also one of the smartest and bravest. I know it's got to have shaken you to the core to be betrayed by Jameson and Jenna too. You trust Chin, Kono and me don't you? I know you're holding off on Lori for the moment until she proves herself but that's just being careful. Just remember we, your ohana, will never ever betray you. We watch out for you the same way we trust you to watch out for us . . . now eat your lunch."

Steve looked at him as though he wanted to say something but ultimately, gave only one of his crooked smiles and said, "Yes mother."

"So, now that we've got that settled. How are we going to get your mini ninja back?"

Steve took another small bite of his sandwich before replying. He looked better. His face had some color back. Pallor beneath a sheen of sweat was not a good look for SuperSEAL.

"Well, I don't think he ever got his final shots and it's a requirement before we can bring him back. We also don't have the outgoing health certificate for some reason. It seems Grayson went around that little requirement so now we may have to start from scratch - pardon the pun."

"As I remember, the day the wolverine was supposed to get his last inoculation was the day you managed to get your ass runover by a speeding car. At the time, I don't think anyone was worried about the little shithead getting rabies or not. As I've said before, he probably has a case of that already - a permanent one. It _would_ explain a lot of his behavior. While I don't think my parents should be subjected to such cruel and unusual punishment, I honestly don't think my dad minds having him as a houseguest . . . go figure."

"Yeah, I talked to Augie yesterday. Apparently he and Cujo are buddies. He said Cujo hasn't even tried to eat your nephew Daniel in at least the last couple of weeks." chuckled McGarrett but it was without any real enthusiasm.

The blonde man looked over and saw a fleeting glimpse of something that may be sadness on his partner's face.

"How long will it take to go through all that stuff? Not that I miss him or anything."

"It could take up to a hundred-twenty days to get him out of quarantine." glumly stated the tall man.

"Wait, did you say that Tim knew how to go 'round the regs?"

"Yeah, I did."

"How does he even know how to do that?" asked the detective, a thought about Kono's new squeeze beginning to form.

McGarrett actually looked startled. It had never occurred to him that Kono's boyfriend might know more about animal import/export than he should. Kono did say he was in that line, she just didn't say what his product was. Why hadn't he seen it before? He really was off his game.

Taking a long pull of the iced drink, the detective set it down on the Formica before saying "You know, he only paid to get Cujo _out_ of Hawaii, he didn't get him a round trip ticket. Maybe he knew it would be almost impossible to get him back in again without a major hassle."

"You're right, maybe we need to look into this Tim guy. I know Cujo doesn't like him but Cujo doesn't like a lot of people." smirked Steve.

Pointedly ignoring his partner's observation about those Cujo found unlikeable he said, "He doesn't seem to be the white knight Kono thinks he is. For one, if he's so concerned about her, why wasn't he at the hospital?"

"Yeah, I noticed how cool he was about that, it kinda bothered me too." said McGarrett, his mouth drawing into a thin line.

"What _I _noticed was the two of you edging your way toward a dick measuring contest. You sure it's not just that that's bothering you?"

"What do you mean? I don't have anything to be worried about." said Steve smugly.

"You Neanderthal, that's not what I meant and you know it."

"The guy is just too full of himself." defended the tall man.

"Some people say the same thing about you, you know."

"Like hell."

"Yeah, like hell. You can be a shithead and you know it."

"Thanks, I'm always worried about that. It's good you're around to let me know when I've offended your delicate sensibilities." said Steve rolling his eyes.

"Fuckin' A! . . . and you're welcome." was the almost polite reply.

Feeling better after their brief lunch break, as they left the diner, Steve tried to grab the keys back from his partner. Danny refused to give them up saying, "No way compadre. Until I'm sure you're not going to pass out and kill us, I'm the captain of this ship."

With a frown of frustration but knowing Danny was just being cautious - maybe rightly so from the way he'd felt earlier, Steve gave in. "All right then Captain, let's stop at the vet's office on the way back to HQ. Make it so."

"That's my line you idiot." snorted Danny.

"I knew you were a secret Trekkie." smirked McGarrett.

"That's Trekker to you, you Andorian sand worm."

...

As he turned left onto Ala Moana Boulevard toward the vet clinic, Danny noticed Steve seemed lost in thought. His partner was still quieter than he'd been before the Korea thing. For a while, he seemed to rally but the last few days, he'd once more reverted to mostly silence during their drives.

"You actually miss the little shithead, don't you?" asked/accused Danny as it finally dawned on him that the absence of the fractious little animal may be one of the reasons his still convalescing partner hadn't yet come back to his old self - at least mentally.

"Well . . . yeah, if you must know." said Steve with a face that registered reluctance and embarrassment. Danny sighed. He would have to come up with a name for that face too. There were so many now.

"What is it with you and that little monster?" asked Danny, genuinely wanting to know the mysterious connection between his BAMF boss/friend and the little err . . . let's face it BAMF cat.

"Danny, I don't know how to explain it to be honest." said Steve running a hand through his now short hair.

They'd arrived at the clinic and sat in the car for a moment under the shade of the big banyan tree in front of it.

"Maybe . . . maybe it's because we're kind of alike." said McGarrett seriously. His partner didn't even blink. He'd always thought that but maybe for different reasons than his partner was about to give.

Steve looked out the windshield without turning toward him as he spoke, "He's tough, he doesn't take shit from anyone but he's just an animal who needed a home. Someone to befriend him . . . you, you know." stammered Steve whose ears were beginning to turn pink as he continued to look forward instead of at his partner.

Danny didn't dare laugh. Actually, he didn't find it funny. That Steve actually admitted he needed a home and a friend . . . wow. That's about as forthcoming as his emotionally stunted partner had ever been in normal conversation. Words that weren't prompted by some giant upheaval that only God would probably ever witness.

This was an earth shattering revelation in McGarrett world.

"Steven, you have a home, you have a friend; hell, you've got an entire freakin' village of friends here! What do we have to do to convince you of that? You want us to all go out and get tattoos proclaiming our love for you?"

Steve snorted at the absurdity.

"Babe, it that's what it's gonna take, I'm in but just something small and tasteful and not in a tender place. I don't want to look like a walking billboard like someone I know." now smiled Danny.

"'m not a billboard." said Steve as he hesitantly raised his dark blue eyes to meet Danny's pale ones.

"Babe, you put any more ink on your body you should think about selling ad space."

"Come on." snorted Steve actually trying not to laugh aloud as he grabbed the door handle. "Let's see about getting our cat back."

"Excuse me? _Our_ cat?" said Danny following him up the steps to the glass entry door. "I'm not claiming ownership of Satan's spawn!" he loudly declared, "Even if I am willing to tattoo your name on my body!" A young woman sporting a nose ring and carrying a small dog exited at just the right moment.

"How sweet." she smiled genuinely at the blonde without any hint of sarcasm as she made her way down the steps with her pet.

Danny stopped dead in his tracks and turned ten different shades of red; his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a goldfish.

Steve had nearly doubled over in laughter. "Just my first name would be fine Daniel." gasped the tall man to his flustered partner.

"Great." muttered Danny, "As if there aren't already enough rumors."

...

It turned out that Cujo _hadn't_ had his final inoculations. Danny thought it odd that Steve, Mr. OCD-Attention-to-Detail-Pain-in-the-Ass' hadn't known if Cujo had completed his series of shots. It was probably testimony to how he was feeling before they'd left for Jersey. Something like that almost never escaped the SEAL's attention.

They'd stopped on their way to pick up a couple of six-packs of Corona and a box of candy. Handing them to Hoku the receptionist who offered a big smile when they entered, (especially when she'd noticed Cujo wasn't with them), they asked to see Dr. Charteris.

Pat joined them at the front desk a moment later, a friendly smile on her pretty face. Maybe it had just been too long since Danny had the pleasure of female company but there did seem to be a plethora of attractive females around them these days. Even Miss Kuehu had a beautiful smile, once SuperSEAL had coaxed it out of her. Danny shook himself . . . the woman probably outweighed him by twice . . . but still, she was sort of attractive in a large, fluffy kind of way.

Pat Charteris' voice broke into his thoughts.

"Yes, I'm quite familiar with Hawaii's laws for any animal entering the islands. Even if you declared him a 'service animal', without the inoculations and documents he should have had before he left, I'm afraid it would still be a hundred-twenty days before he would be released from quarantine."

"Service animal" muttered Steve to himself, wheels turning furiously, already reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"Thanks Pat." he smiled as he gestured for Danny to follow him back out to the waiting Camaro.

...

Angela Williams looked out the window of the Airbus. Buttery sunshine poured into the cabin as she marveled at the blanket of clouds below. From this side of the cottony formations, they looked so unlike the dismal grey blobs at home that, during the winter months, obscured the sky most of the time.

A soft mew came from the carrier belted into the seat beside her. She turned her head to see a flash of light reflect off the gold badge and the embroidered seal of Hawaii with the words 'Detective C.D. McGarrett' beneath it. It was all very official looking. Steve had Fedexed the badge and carrier to her along with paperwork, instructions and the small packet of vet prescribed kitty tranquilizers.

The commander had chosen the right one to accompany Detective C.D. McGarrett back to Hawaii; one Detective Angela A. Williams who feared no one - not airline officials, flight attendants, the Hawaii Department of Agriculture - whoever stood in the way of her assignment to get the little buzzsaw home. She would definitely get all Jersey on their asses if required. The aggravation and hassle was small price to pay for a few weeks of fun in the sun and a first-class ticket to 'paradise'.

It would be wonderful to get away from Jersey for a few weeks. _Being a thirty-year-old detective soon to be_ _lieutenant and still living in one's parent's home isn't the soothing nirvana it's cracked up to be,_ she thought sourly. Newark was expected to be snowed in again by tomorrow. If her mom told her one more time 'what a nice boy Steven is' she was going to get out her gun. She had no doubt what was behind the comment. Her mom still hadn't given up.

"Thanks for the rescue, detective." Angela smiled as she cooed to the restless little animal beside her. Steve was right, the evil little bastard would swallow a pill if you wrapped it in raw meat.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC

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**PS - My apologies to Star Trek fans everywhere.**


	21. Not Quite Kumbaya

Cujo II - Chapter 21

**Finally! Here's another. Hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are two more chapters left to go, they're almost complete. Thank you all for your reviews, alerts and favorites. Posting this in a hurry before I have to give back the computer. My apologies for any glaring errors. You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: If wishes were horses .** . .

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Not Quite Kumbaya

Getting _Detective_ McGarrett through customs wasn't as difficult as she'd expected. Apparently, someone from the governor's office had called ahead and smoothed the way. Steve really did 'know people'. In Jersey, that phrase could mean something with an entirely different result than getting a cat home.

As an animal subject to the rules and regulations of the Hawaii Department of Agriculture, there would have been no chance in hell to have gotten him past the state's watchful inspectors but as a full fledged Five-0 detective with means and immunity, it was nearly a breeze.

Normally, Cujo would have gone directly from the plane to the quarantine facility. After a brief, only slightly _Jersified_, discussion with the airport's agriculture inspector, and the presentation of Detective C.D. McGarrett's official I.D., (not to mention the tall man with the scary tattoos and even scarier stare standing on the other side of the glass partition watching the exchange), the still drowsy and newly minted officer of the law was on his way home at last.

Angie smiled broadly at her two brothers. Danny, as usual, looked hale and healthy. Steve, once again tan and at least a little more filled out, had no trouble looking menacing for the inspector. Danny gave Angela a welcoming hug. Steve was right behind him as she, with a sigh of relief, handed the carrier to the commander and returned her blonde brother's embrace of welcome.

"Angie! Aloha and mahalo!" said Steve delightedly as he peered into the carrier at his prodigal friend. "Thanks so much for the favor."

"Favor!" she laughed, "You've no idea how much I've wanted to get out of Newark . . . at least for a few days. Mom, as usual, was driving me nuts and since the weather's been a bitch - being cooped up all day - well, you've no idea."

"Yeah, I think he does." said her brother drily. "SuperSEAL couldn't handle Jersey weather. He's still talking about it."

"Danny, I froze my ass off for nearly three weeks! If it wasn't for the fever, you'd have had to ship me home like an icicle in a refrigerated box."

"Almost had to do that anyway, Babe." reminded the blonde man, almost shivering, (not from remembrance of Newark's weather.)

"Well, we're all here now." said Angela to derail the sudden serious turn of the conversation, "even the piranha!"

"Did he give you any trouble?" asked Steve hoping to hear a negative answer and guiding them toward baggage claim while carefully holding the 'official' Five-0 carrier as though it had a mercury switch that would detonate if jostled.

"Nah, not much. Not a peep from him until the meds wore off about halfway across. He started howling and they threatened to throw us off the plane while we were still over the water." she laughed

"What'd you have to do? Obviously, whatever it was got the little shithead here." asked Danny, adding, "He is alive right?" as he realized they hadn't heard a sound from the animal in the transport container.

"Yeah, don't worry, he's still wasted from that last pill. Steve was right, he hasn't caught on yet that that little lump in the middle of a piece of meat is gonna send him to lala land."

"Thank God" breathed her blonde brother.

"Copy that! I thought we were gonna have to swim the rest of the way here. Someone was trying to organize a petition to present to the pilot." she smiled.

"Sorry about that, Angie. I know he can be a little difficult." said the tall man.

"Oh, please, Steven! You look in the dictionary under the word 'shithead' and there's a picture of your friggin' wolverine! The whole world knows how difficult he can be." snorted his partner.

That comment only garnered an eye roll as they reached the baggage carousel that served Angela's flight; the shute already spewing Samsonite onto the conveyor.

"No worries Steve. The flight attendant and I had opportunity for quite a few conversations. After she figured out I wasn't transporting a weapon of mass destruction, she gave me her number." chirped Angela, "I think I have a date next Wednesday!" she winked to her brothers before making a quick grab for her luggage and yanking it from the conveyer while waiving off the men's offers of assistance.

"That's great, Ange." laughed Danny, it's about time his gorgeous sister gets back into the game.

"Boy, you don't waste any time." said Steve admiringly.

"Yeah, but don't be so sure about not transporting a WMD." laughed Danny. "You ever see the movie 'Snakes on a Plane'?

"Hey, you're dissing a fellow officer!" reminded his partner. "Isn't there supposed to be some sort of code of solidarity for the boys _and_ girls in blue?"

"Yeah, for actual human beings, Steven! Not deranged wolverines given the title of detective and flown first class to Honolulu!" said the blonde man, hands beginning their usual hyperkinetic movements.

"You jealous Danno? You know, I could have made him outrank you. I just thought it would hurt your feelings since your so sensitive and you seem to have so many of them." said Steve with mock seriousness.

Angela laughed as the two animatedly traded barbs while they made their way toward short term parking. They had no idea how they sounded to those around them when they bickered. It wasn't that hard to come to the wrong conclusion about their relationship thought the amused woman. It felt good to be back with her brothers, (and to finally get rid of that friggin' cat).

...

They sat around the banked fire enjoying each other's company. Finally, they were all together again; one big somewhat dysfunctional but happy family; the only discordant note being the inclusion of Tim Grayson in the group. Kono still seemed oblivious to her ohana's reservations about her boyfriend.

Cujo watched Grayson carefully, not taking his eyes off the man for quite some time. They'd taken turns holding the little cat. He'd started off in Steve's arms, then Kono's, then Malia's. Currently, he seemed very comfy in Chin's lap but never shifted his intense gaze from Grayson.

There seemed neither rhyme nor reason for his choices of laps. Sometimes, if Danny even so much as looked at him, he'd hiss. Same for Grayson. Danny was actually miffed the cat would lump him in with the scumbag.

_How did I even get to the point in my life where I was worried about what a friggin' cat thought of me?_ frowned Danny, disgusted with himself.

Chin and Kono had talked Steve into pit roasted pig for the celebration, saying it was 'traditional' for a New Year's luau. This was Five-0's official get-together. New Year's Eve actually wasn't until tomorrow but most of them had been invited, (ordered), to appear at the Governor's Annual New Year's Eve Ball. Apparently, Five-0 was going to be put on display for the citizens of Hawaii to gawk at. For that reason, no one was looking forward to it.

The wooden beach chairs were arranged around the fire crackling with a bright orange glow as the sun set and the last bands of color left the sky. The stars had emerged for their travel across the heavens and it was a beautiful evening.

"Yeah, Steve, kalua roast pork is a traditional celebration meal." seriously intoned Chin, already knowing Steve probably wouldn't eat it in any case; no matter how traditional it was.

"So is fish" countered their boss. In his peripatetic life, he'd eaten things far less appetizing to him than roast pig but the medication he was still taking made him a pretty finicky eater of late – even more so than usual.

Slowly, he was regaining some of the weight he'd lost though not quickly enough for his ohana - Danny in particular. The blonde was making up for any real or imagined 'short' remarks that had ever been directed toward him by his partner.

Knowing Danny was always hyper-vigilant about slights or perceived slights regarding being vertically challenged, Steve usually avoided any mention of his partner's height. It wasn't usually something he even thought about as Danny was such a 'big' presence by dint of personality alone.

"It's windy out, eat a sandwich before you sail off like a kite!" or "You can't wear yellow, it makes you look like a pencil." the detective might say. Steve just laughed. He knew it was temporary. He'd let Danny have his fun for now. He can't say it didn't bother him at least a little though. He hadn't been this underweight in years. He'd been a pretty skinny kid and had heard enough remarks like that when he was growing up.

"Come on Boss. Just try it, it's really good." coaxed Kono, holding up a forkful of roasted pork before him. His stomach was already doing flip-flops as he declined the morsel.

"No thanks, Kono but I'm sure it's wonderful." he said as he held his hands up in an 'enough' gesture.

The Hawaiian girl was persistent, "You've got to eat something. Despite what you guys seem to think, man cannot survive on beer alone."

It was getting on his nerves that someone was always trying to get him to eat more than he wanted or could handle but he smiled back at his well-intentioned friend, "According to Danny, just throw in a pizza and yeah, we're good for life. Besides I've already eaten. I had some fish and some salad." he defended.

"That's diet food for most _normal_ humans!" exclaimed Danny, stressing the word 'normal' as he strode up to his teamates, his daughter clinging to his back like her Danno's pet name for her – monkey.

"Danno, that stuff is good for you!" giggled Grace.

"See, now look what you've done. You've turned my own daughter, my own flesh and blood, into one of you! Next thing I know, she'll be scarfing down pineapple tofu and bean sprouts instead of healthy things like pizza and ribs. You know, things that put hair on your chest!"

"Danno! I'm a girl! I don't want hair on my chest!" she squealed.

"Yeah, Danno. When she gets older, Gracie won't look that great in her bikini if she has a furry chest." laughed Steve.

"No one should even be looking at my baby's chest!" barked Danny, only half in jest as he swung his daughter off his back and onto the sand. "And, she's never going to wear bikinis . . . well, maybe when she gets to be forty or so."

"But Aunt Kono wears them!" yelped Gracie.

"Yeah, Aunt Kono looks good in them Danno." smirked Steve to his partner.

"Hey, damn . . . err darn it! You're not supposed to notice those things about your teammates!"

"Danno, I'm sick, I'm not dead!" laughed the tall man as he took another swig of his beer. Danny hadn't yet busted him for drinking alcohol with his meds but maybe he was just feeling sorry for him at this point. He'd take what he could get.

"Yeah, any more remarks about my cousin in a bikini and you will be." said Chin in mock protectiveness, joining the bikini conversation.

"Hey, I know how I look in a bikini." smirked Kono, her dark eyes alight with mischief. "How do you think I hooked Tim?"

That caused the three men to frown all at once. Kono looked a little puzzled but didn't get a chance to dwell on their reaction. Just then, the boyfriend in question walked up to the group gathered around the fire and planted a kiss on his girl. He hugged her a little too hard and she yelped in pain, causing Cujo to emit a low growl.

Chin felt the little body begin to tense and the Hawaiian quickly handed him to Steve who gingerly took the growling little animal to try to calm him before things got out of hand.

"Hey, easy on the bod, caveman - still a little tender." smiled Kono at her handsome boyfriend who'd squeezed her a little too enthusiastically.

"Oh, sorry honey. I forgot." apologized Grayson, loosening his hold and giving her a peck on the cheek.

All three men rolled their eyes in unison. _He forgot._

Grace - being her father's daughter - immediately noticed their reaction. "Danno, why did you and Uncle Steve and Uncle Chin look like that right now? You know, make your eyes look up at the sky?"

"Monkey, isn't it time for you to get ready for bed?" asked Danny, grabbing his daughter's shoulders and turning her toward the house.

"But Danno!" she whined "Why . . . "

"Go, I said or you won't get any of Aunt Kono's haupia before you go to bed. Scoot now!" he again interrupted her question, trying to get his daughter to shush before their unanimous opinion of Grayson became even more obvious.

"Aunt Angie, would you please take Gracie to get her jammies on? We're staying at Steve's tonight too." said the father of the too observant child.

"Oh boy! A pajama party!" exclaimed Danny's sister as she grabbed Grace's hand and practically skipped back to the house. They would have skipped but it's nearly impossible to do in soft sand. It turned into a kind of hopping jog instead.

"Kono, honey. Why don't you go with them. We're gonna engage in some 'guy talk' right now." said Grayson, a smug grin on his handsome face.

The slender woman nodded her head but looked perplexed as she reluctantly rose from her perch next to him to follow Angela and Gracie back up the short slope to the house. _Guy talk? WTF?, _she thought but not wanting to cause a scene, did as she was asked.

Surprised that Kono agreed to leave for such a lame reason, one that would have surely gotten them a stern lecture or worse from Ms. Kalakaua, the men were on their guard as they remained in front of the fire with Tim, waiting for him to begin the conversation.

"Look, I know you guys don't like me." stated Grayson, first to speak. "Kono and I aren't serious or anything. We're just two people out for a good time." he smiled at the stonelike panel of men staring back at him from across the fire.

"Does she know that?" scowled Chin, his usually unreadable face tense and his fingers flexing automatically as if, on their own, they would find themselves wrapped around someone's neck.

"Well, yeah. I mean we haven't discussed it or anything but it's not serious." he assured them in his oily way.

Danny almost expected him to launch into a spiel about a used Cadillac or try to sell them a magic chopper or some other 'miracle' kitchen device as seen on TV.

Just then, Cujo, as though in answer, growled again from the arm of the wooden chair in which sat his chosen human.

Danny never thought he'd agree with the barracuda but agree he did. He felt like growling himself; maybe even taking a bite out of the weasel's well-tanned ankle.

"We kind of got that impression when you didn't bother to show up at the hospital after Kono had been shot." said Steve pointedly, his eyes boring into Grayson.

"She was still asleep when I called to check on her. Like I said, I didn't think she'd even know I was there or not." re-iterated Grayson, still sounding not the least bit abashed at his callousness nor intimidated by the SEAL's 'thousand yard stare' as the blonde detective called it.

Max arrived just then, walking up to the fire, a buxom local beauty on his arm.

_How does the guy do that?_ wondered Danny at the seeming ease with which their elf-like M.E. attracted women.

"Hey Max. Welcome to the party. Sit down, have a beer and introduce us to your friend." greeted Steve glad for the distraction from the slimeball with whom Kono was still enamored for reasons that escaped her ohana.

"Why, thank you . . . Steve." said Max in his odd cadence that didn't even seem odd any longer to his friends. "This is my . . . friend, Punani." He gestured toward the silken haired girl who smiled shyly back at them and gave a little wave.

The men all greeted her warmly; Chin the one to call attention to her name. He translated it for them as 'beautiful flower'.

Steve leaned back in his chair, enjoying the gathering in spite of the smug smile on that bastard Grayson's face.

From then on, the evening progressed amicably enough. Malia who had worked somewhat late and arrived separately from her husband was now sitting next to him by the fire. The newly-weds were wrapped in each other's arms; looking quite content.

Kamekona arrived with a girl Steve recognized as one of the waitresses at the Hilton. She was introduced to them as Susy and was a tiny little thing made to look even more miniscule by the great bulk of her date. She said hi in a helium fueled voice . . . like a younger sounding Missus Ratliff thought Steve with a shudder - though the girl was far more attractive . . . and nicer.

Lori and Angela sat next to each other comparing notes on techniques of how best to subdue an agitated suspect.

Steve listened to their conversation - Lori was all for talking him into submission while Angie seemed to lean toward just kicking ass and getting it over with. _I knew I liked her!, _he thought delightedly_._

It seemed everyone had paired off in one way or another except Steve. _Well,_ he sighed inwardly, _it looks like my date for tonight is Cujo._

Cath was supposed to arrive tonight or tomorrow but exactly what time he didn't yet know. She was trying to get on a flight out of Guam but he knew it was up to whatever space was available on the next transport. He hadn't heard from her yet. She was supposed to give him a call when she'd secured a seat and let him know her ETA.

Gracie, Angie and Kono finally returned to the fire where talk turned to the Governor's New Year's Ball.

Even Angela got involved in the 'what are you going to wear' discussion that immediately broke out among the women and for some strange reason, Max and Kamekona. The other men sat quietly, bored out of their skulls listening to what they dismissively considered prattle.

Steve wished Cath were here to join in. He didn't even know if she was much into such things. Most of the time she was attired in camos, (or nothing at all) when they managed to get together. His attention snapped back to the conversation as Angie was extolling the virtues of push-up bras under one's gown.

_Angie?_ _Time to get another beer._ Steve rose asking if anyone would like any refreshments. The 'girls' all giggled at him as one, even Gracie who wouldn't have need of such a garment for several more years . . . _Thank God,_ thought her father and her uncles.

Angela thought she saw a bit of extra color on Steve's face as he fled to the kitchen. "Seems SuperSEAL isn't comfortable talking about ladies undergarments." she laughed.

"He's just probably more comfortable removing said undergarments from ladies." blurted out Danny before realizing he was probably talking out of turn and similarly fled to the house to 'help' his partner with the refreshments before his way too bright little girl began asking more questions.

There was more laughter from the group on the lanai. Who knew superSEAL was so old fashioned? And what's with Danny?

Cujo was left behind on Steve's chair. He was calmer but still didn't take his eyes off of Grayson. Whenever the man moved, a nearly inaudible growl would come from the little animal perched like a furry vulture on the wooden arm.

Grayson would glance nervously in the little cat's direction every time he shifted position on his own seat. _That little fucker is getting on my nerves, just like his fucking owner. Well, it won't be long before that smug SEAL bastard is dead._

As for that annoying cat, he thought he'd taken care of the problem by shipping the little bastard off the island. Of course McGarrett would find a way to get him back. _I should have killed that mangy_ _little asshole!_ thought Grayson as he hugged Kono tighter against him, glaring at the cat almost triumphantly.

"Hey! Ow!" yelped the slender woman as Tim, once again, hugged her too tightly and at the wrong place on her still healing body.

With a loud growl ending in his signature screech, Cujo flew off the chair like he was spring-loaded, landed at Grayson's feet and sank his fangs into the bare ankle that so conveniently presented itself.

"Ow! Shit!" thundered Grayson, swinging his beer bottle at the creature attached to his ankle as Punani and Susy screamed in fright.

"Tim! NO!" yelled Kono as Steve, Danny hot on his heels, skidded to a sand scattering halt and quicker than one could blink, had Grayson around the neck in a choke hold.

"Steve! NO!" yelled Kono as she grabbed for the little cat while Danny grabbed for his partner before the SEAL could do more harm to Grayson than a punctured ankle.

"Cujo! NO!" Kono was beginning to feel she was repeating herself entirely too much.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH THE CAT!" thundered Steve, loosening his hold on Kono's hapless boyfriend as Danny tried to pry his partner's arms from around Grayson's neck.

Steve knew Cujo could be 'overzealous' sometimes so he wasn't really going to snap Grayson's neck like he could so easily do, (even though it was a temptation). He allowed Danny to prevail.

"You harm Kono or that cat and I'll break you in half." growled McGarrett into Grayson's ear his voice low, menacing and unheard by those around them before releasing his hold.

Kono had succeeded in pulling the feline off her boyfriend's ankle; miraculously without being bitten herself. Like his chosen human, once Cujo was locked on target, it wasn't wise to get in his way. She now held the little cat by the scruff as he squirmed and growled all manner of kitty threats, still trying to do-in the man he perceived as Kono's assailant.

Chin had quickly run back to the house to fetch the canvas bag he knew Steve conveniently kept in a cabinet by the front door.

He handed it to Steve who held it for Kono to drop the furiously growling cat into and quickly drew the sack closed.

They all stood breathing heavily. Grayson's face had darkened with fury. His ankle stung like a bitch.

McGarrett's eyes seemed to be drilling holes in him. They looked nearly black in spite of the glow of the fire.

"I'm so sorry Tim!" apologized Kono. "If I hadn't yelled like that, Cujo wouldn't have bitten you. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault, Kono." the SEAL's voice frightening with it's quiet menace. "If your 'friend'", he ground out the word, "hadn't held you too tight even though he knew better, Cujo wouldn't have thought you were being attacked." Steve's eyes never left Grayson's.

"I know he was only trying to defend me, I'm sorry, Boss." apologized Kono again, wishing it had never happened.

"Hey! I'm the one who got bit! It's probably gonna leave a scar!" whined Grayson. "I think someone owes me an apology - other than Kono's."

"Dream on" snapped Danny, insinuating himself between his partner and Grayson. He could see the tension in Steve's body. It wouldn't take much for his partner to snap and finish what Cujo had started.

The cat continued to growl from inside his canvas prison set on the sand next to them.

"Kono, why don't we take Tim up to the house to get his ankle checked out. I'm sure it must sting a little and we need to clean it up." suggested Malia. She and Chin made a good team - the voices of reason and calm in nearly every situation.

"Come on, Tim." said Kono putting her arm around her boyfriend's tense shoulders and using her other to tug him along. "Malia's a doctor, she'll know how to patch you up."

McGarrett and Grayson continued their angry staredown for another moment before Grayson grudgingly said "Sure" and walked with the two women to get his ankle tended to.

"Good job, cat." said McGarrett to the growling, wriggling canvas bag at his feet.

"Close one, Brah!" breathed Kamekona to Max as he comforted Susy in his huge arms, her tiny body almost disappearing in his embrace. "The popoki was almost on his way to da big house!"

"Who wants a beer?" huffed Steve as the group exhaled nearly as one in relief, glad that only Cujo had spilled anyone's blood that night.

"Why don't they just piss in the corners?" whispered Angela to Lori who, at first, looked shocked then recognized what the dark-haired woman meant and almost sprayed a mouthful of beer on her companion as she tried not to laugh aloud.

_Yeah, cat, SEAL, boyfriend . . . way too much macho in one place at one time. Maybe picking a corner to mark was a good idea. Less lethal than bloodshed._ Lori was glad Steve didn't catch them in the conspiratorial whisper. That would be awkward to say the least and until everyone calmed down, maybe even a little dangerous.

Growls and curses in cat language still issued from the bag that squirmed on the sand. Cujo had done what they'd all wanted to do. Lori vowed to get their smallest detective some extra special treats. Were there mouse or lizard flavored Friskies?

...

Ricardo finished checking his equipment. The boat was ready. The guns were ready. This was going to be spectacular. The smuggling industry, if not the entire world, was going to speak of it for years to come.

His jeffe would get his revenge. The state would be in chaos. The door would be wide open for even more profitable ventures.

He thought of sitting on his veranda at home, a cold drink in his hand and basking in the glory of it all as he told the story to his compadres. A smile played over his face as he checked the well-oiled action on his gun.

***5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0***

TBC

Note: After this story is complete, I won't be posting any more until I get a laptop. The ETA is by the end of August. It's been difficult to post updates without my own computer. Every word was written in longhand before being transcribed in all-night sessions on borrowed equipment. While I really don't mind, I don't think it's fair to the readers to have to wait so long for updates. Will still be reading and reviewing when I can. Thanks again.


	22. Mouse on a Stick

Cujo II - Chapter 22

**Here's another. I was only going to go one more chapter but this one was threatening to be almost unending. Drinking a gallon of coffee made me a little too chatty. Two more chapters to go but that's my final offer . . . honest.**

**Thank you for all for your support. Your reviews, alerts and favorites are a light in the darkness, (figuratively of course – it's of absolutely no help when the power goes out), but I LOVE YOU GUYS anyway!**

**As usual, there will be mistakes and they are all mine. It's about four-thirty in the morning so who knows what form they will take. It will be a surprise for us all. Oh, the suspense. Please review if only to point out my idiocy.**

**Disclaimer: If only . . .**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Mouse on a Stick

Everyone was ignoring him. He meowed for attention and got none.

The little cat sat forlornly in the middle of the guest room, watching the female who screams at mice, (even dead ones), smear something the color of blood on her mouth. She was looking at someone who was looking back at her and doing the exact same thing.

From past experience, he knew the other person would have no smell and even the cat who would stare back at him when he went to investigate had none. He used to think that he could entice the other cat out to fight, or at least to play, but gave up after several tries. It was kind of boring to just have someone without a smell stare back at him. He couldn't imagine what the female found so fascinating about the woman looking back at her but he immediately perked up when she took a small stick with fur on the end of it and brushed it on her face.

How curious.

He'd have to investigate why this female would have a mouse on a stick and if she was afraid of them; why would she put it on her face? Very strange. Females are mysterious creatures.

"Behind you Cujo." he heard a familiar voice and the rustle of cloth as the female from the cold place brushed past him. She smelled like flowers. He liked that.

The little cat noticed that even his chosen human smelled sort of like flowers right now . . . flowers mixed with wood maybe. The smell was like the bottle in the room where his human slept. It sat on a very tall wooden box and there were many smaller boxes that pulled out from it. He sometimes slept in the smaller boxes that were filled with soft cloth. He'd always be discovered after awhile and removed from his cozy napping place. He protested the removal but it never did any good.

His human's new smell wasn't a bad one but he much more liked the way the tall man usually smelled; like sweat and sort of like the bubbles at the place of barking dogs. Mixed in with that was the scent of the metal things that he knew made a loud noise, (sometimes, he'd even sneak naps in the place where they were kept). He knew what the metal things were called . . . guns. He'd heard the word often enough.

He was brought back from his feline musings by a loud hiss. Startled, he jumped straight up in the air. Coming down in battle mode, he searched around him to locate whatever creature had made the hostile noise and kill it.

"What'sa matter Cujo?" laughed the female from the cold place. "Didn't mean to scare you, it's only hair spray see?" She held a metal thing toward him. He approached cautiously to sniff it. It smelled awful. He let out a gigantic wet sneezed that made both females laugh.

With a gruff chirp and a flip of his tail, he turned to stalk off. That was embarrassing.

A loud knock on the door and a voice from the other side asked. "You ladies decent?"

"Not so's you'd notice but come in anyway." answered Angela. "You sure you want to enter the land of primping princesses?"

"I know I'm taking my life in my hands but I'll risk it." Smiled Steve as he opened the door and stepped into the room, "It's about time to leave. You guys about ready?"

"Will be in five." answered the Jersey detective, fastening a sparkly earring to her delicate lobe as she searched around the floor for the borrowed shoes that went with the borrowed dress.

"You look amazing Angie!" admired McGarrett as he took in her appearance. He was still blown-away by the fact the dark-haired beauty was Danny's sister.

"Well, you clean up pretty good too!" she said admiringly. "James Bond has nothing on you, Babe."

He laughed and turned to go back downstairs to gather his keys and wallet.

_It's true! _thought Lori, her eyes roving over the man retreating down the stairs. He looked like a tux model or a slightly too lean 007. She sighed to herself. As taken as she was with the commander of Five-0, she couldn't covet a man who apparently belonged to someone else - Catherine would be here tonight sometime. It wasn't right to do so and besides, Steve seemed a little cool lately. When she flirted, he didn't really flirt back like he had when they first met.

At first, she figured maybe it had something to do with Korea but had finally come to the conclusion - here was a guy who actually didn't let his dick rule his head. Steve, admirably, seemed to be a one-woman man: even if the woman was on a ship in the middle of the ocean miles away. Though she felt rejected, (it didn't happen very often), she'd decided to back off. She sighed a little louder at the thought of abandoning her campaign.

Angela heard the sigh, asking, "Something wrong Lori?" The dark elegant brows curved upward in question.

"No." blushed the Five-0 profiler, "Just thinking about something I can't have."

"Steve looks hot in that tux." Angela said knowingly. Almost since her arrival and introduction to the team she recognized the comely profiler had the hots for the SEAL. She was as intuitive and observant as Danny. It's what made them both excellent detectives.

Startled at Angela's observation, Lori looked up at her new friend. She could feel her face flushing and answered, "Yeah, he does." before ducking her head and going back to applying her powder blush. With the redness of her face, it was hard to gauge how much to apply at the moment.

"It's the 'bad boys' who are the most attractive." laughed Angela at her red-faced friend.

"Yeah, don't I know it." sighed Lori with a sad smile as she abandoned her makeup application and turned toward Angela. "They're also the ones most likely to take your heart and stomp it into oblivion. I found that out the hard way." she laughed ironically. "Apparently, I'm a slow learner."

"Aren't we all." agreed Angela, a quick flash of Nadine making an unwanted appearance in her mind.

"Don't worry, Lori. You look fabulous. I'm sure there'll be guys panting after you when they see you in that dress. Blue is definitely your color."

"You should talk." smirked Lori, "You'll be mobbed. I wish that dress had looked that good on me. Never had the curves to pull it off."

"Thanks for the loan and the rest of the stuff to go with it. I hadn't planned on attending such a fancy soiree. Pretty much all I'd packed were shorts and tanks."

"Yeah, well, I really need to thank you for agreeing to go with me at the last minute. I hadn't made a Plan B in case Plan A fell through."

"Well, like I said, you'll be mobbed." said Angela sincerely.

"You too . . . oh." said Lori suddenly realizing that it may be the wrong kind of mob. Angela hadn't hidden her orientation from the team and a couple of weeks ago the profiler had overheard Danny's rant to an amused Chin about finding his lesbian sister in bed with Steve.

"At least it will be good for my ego if nothing else." observed the striking woman in the silky red dress, "As long as they only look and don't touch."

"I have a feeling if they did touch, they'd regret it?" laughed Lori

"Fuckin'-A."

...

Steve could hear frantic bustling around upstairs as he waited impatiently by the front door, actually tapping his foot.

"We're gonna be late!" he called up the stairs to the women, resisting the urge to add, MOVE IT! as he would to his SEAL team. He had no idea that women preparing for a formal evening would approach the op like well . . . an op.

Lori quickly threw her make-up and the brush back into her large wheeled bag. She'd come straight from work with Steve and when he raised his eyebrows at the huge bag, she explained it was clothing and accessories for both she and Angela.

"Oh, yeah, of course." he'd said at the time, still wondering whey anyone would need such a large piece of luggage if they weren't leaving the country for a year-long trip. Women are mysterious creatures.

The SEAL also wondered how clothing that fit Lori's nearly boyishly slim figure would also fit the more . . . what's that word he learned from Stella . . . oh yeah, _zaftig_ Angie.

He tried not to dwell on anyone's figure too long and shook the thoughts out of his head. Cath would soon be here and any other woman would be a dim and distant memory as soon as he saw her.

Lori quickly gathered up the rest of her stuff and zipping the bag closed, hefted it off the bed and wheeled it toward the stairway. Steve took the stairs two at a time to help her with the bulky bag and lug it back down for her. Angie followed right behind them - only a little slower as she balanced precariously on the five-inch heels Lori insisted she wear because they went so well with the dress. Luckily, she and Lori wore the same somewhat undainty-sized nines. Angie couldn't imagine trying to shove her feet into anything this uncomfortable that was also too snug. It would be hard enough not to take a tumble and break her neck. She held onto the stair railing with a death grip.

Making it to the door in a cluttered rush, Steve carried the bag down the walkway, not even bothering to wheel it, and threw it into the back of the waiting Silverado. He'd have to stow it more securely when they got there . . . if they ever did. He tried hard not to laugh as he watched Angie totter down the porch steps and toward the truck. She did look nice though. He just hoped she wouldn't break anything.

...

They arrived with only minutes to spare. Steve had successfully scared the crap out of his passengers but they were on time dammit!

Taking pity on Angela and her precarious perch on her shoes, he let his passengers out of the truck at the main entrance then went to find a place to park. Letting a valet park the Silverado wasn't a good idea. There were things in the truck that he wouldn't even store in the Camaro. Danny had no idea.

He found a vacant spot and quickly pulled in, locking the door and was almost on his way across the parking lot when he remembered Lori's bag. He had enough room to lock it in the storage box in the bed of the truck.

He had just put his hand on the plastic handle when he heard a muffled meow.

...

The event was more than glamour - **it was power**.

Every bigwig on the islands was here and quite a few more had flown in from other parts of the country.

It was a beautiful warm evening. The event was being held in the huge outdoor ballroom overlooking the harbor. The glow from strings of lights threaded through the palms and the candles arranged on the lavishly decorated tables was magical.

A small boat without running lights cruised up to the barge in the middle of the harbor. The engine was nearly silent but there was no need for stealth. Both the fire marshal and the pryo-technician already had on their ear protection.

Ricardo unsheathed his knife and silently boarded the barge. The two men whose responsibility it was to monitor the safety and perform the actions required to fire off the banks of rockets were bent over a computer keyboard.

It was easy to pick out which was the fire marshal; it was written in large red letters on the back of the man's shirt. He was a sitting duck.

…

It was stuffy in here . . . and dark. Now, it was moving too! Besides being disappointed that the fur on the stick wasn't actually a mouse, (it didn't even smell like mouse), he was probably on his way to the place where he was poked with sharp things that made him feel like fleas were biting his skin.

There was a thump as the bag was put down rather roughly and he could hear doors slamming and voices, one he recognized as the tall man's. The others voices belonged to the two females who'd laughed at him. He remembered things like that. The loud man had found out the hard way what a good memory he had.

He felt the rumble of the big rolling box beneath him. Despite the worry of winding up at the place of fleas, it was almost fun to tumble around in the bag as they sped through many twists and turns on their journey.

The movement stopped for a moment and he heard more voices and slamming of doors then they were traveling again but only for a short while. They came to an abrupt stop.

One more door slammed and he heard footsteps walking away then a faint, "Oh shit." It sounded like the tall man's voice.

A rough tug on the bag startled him and he let out a surprised meow. There was silence. Then . . . "NO WAY!"

The bag was put down more gently this time and he could see light as he heard another funny sound and then, the bag was pulled open.

"Cat!" sighed his human who reached to get him out, pulling away strips of flimsy cloth that had somehow wrapped around him.

Steve held the little stowaway up, examining him for damage and to disentangle him from Lori's lingerie; a frilly pink, (and padded if he wasn't mistaken) brassiere.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" demanded the laughing man as he removed the last flimsy strap from around the furry little body. Cujo only blinked back at him, even the dim light in the parking lot bright to his eyes.

"No time to discuss your fetish right now, Buddy. You're gonna have to spend a couple hours in the truck. Don't do anything rude in there, huh? Hold it until we get home."

With that, he quickly rummaged around in the storage box for a bottle of water and using his pocket knife, cut off the top of it to make a small cup from its base and placed it on the back seat as a water bowl for his unexpected passenger.

"That'll have to do for now." he said as he rolled down the windows only about an inch and locked the truck. Since it was already after dark, there was no worry that the truck's interior would become too warm for its occupant and if anyone tried to take advantage of the windows being partially down and break in with the wolverine guarding the truck . . . that would be their sorry mistake.

The tuxedoed man finished locking Lori's bag in the storage box and sprinted across the lot toward the entrance to the ballroom.

…

Steve came rushing up to the table just as the lights dimmed and the master of ceremonies cleared his throat. He seemed a little breathless but smiled at his Five-0 table-mates and took his seat. There was a vacant chair next to him with the ivory colored place-card announcing 'Lieutenant Catherine Rollins' in elaborate script.

"A little delayed were we?" whispered Danny, noticing the last-second arrival and the slight breathlessness of his friend/boss.

"Tell you about it later." whispered Steve in answer as the orchestra began to play a fanfare of some sort.

Distracted by thoughts of finally getting to see Cath, Steve barely noticed those around him. _What better way to bring in the New Year than with his luscious lieutenant and a fireworks display that would dim in comparison to the upcoming midnight kiss?_

Kono, spectacular in pale blue that set off her tan skin was distracted as well by the hot guy with her. Tim Grayson, in his custom tailored Armani tux was the perfect appearing companion for the gorgeous island girl. They were an ad for something fabulous and expensive.

Steve, as usual, looked like he was born to wear a tux. Danny, though his bow tie was slightly askew was resplendent in his as well. Gracie wore a pink dress that came to her ankles; a butterfly shaped barrette glittered in her shiny brown hair.

_A fairy princess_, thought Danny, always amazed that he could have fathered such a perfect creature. He beamed with pride at his 'date'. Danny himself had plaited her hair into a French braid and placed the clip into it. Being the single dad of a young daughter had given him reason to learn all sorts of new skills. His princess reached up to straighten his bow tie and smiled her approval at her Danno's appearance. They'd all greeted each other with murmurs of how well everyone had 'cleaned up'. Gracie beamed shyly at their compliments but she was glad they mentioned what a handsome man her Danno is. She thought so too.

Max and the lovely Punani were there. She wore a floral dress that coordinated with her date's tie and cummerbund.

Steve kept looking anxiously toward the entryway. Cath didn't know if she would make it on time. This would be the first time he'd be able to see her since she'd been shipped out nearly four months ago.

The balmy evening started out with the usual speeches and polite applause. Various state officials took their turns thanking their minions for jobs well done or at least giving them lip service to keep said minions mildly enthusiastic about work.

The fireworks show wouldn't start for more than an hour. The pyrotechnics would be co-ordinated with an elaborate orchestral offering and would start slowly and then build to the big finale at midnight. It wasn't even ten P.M. yet.

_This is going to take fucking forever!_ silently lamented Steve. Only the possibility of seeing Cath made it worthwhile.

….

It was boring in here. It wasn't moving, there was nothing to see but the night sky and the other rolling boxes standing still beside them.

He explored every inch and crevice of his surroundings. He found his water dish but there was nothing to eat.

This was sooooooooo boring!

He looked out the window from the place his human usually sat. Standing on his back feet, he put his paws on the shelf below the clear thing that kept him locked in. There was a whirring noise. It startled him and he jumped back, his fur standing up as though responding to a threat.

Wait! Was the clear thing coming downward? Why? He bravely put his paws back on the little shelf. Nothing happened. He chirped in frustration and flicked his tail. He tried again, this time resting his paws on another part of the shelf. He heard the whirr again and was rewarded when the clear thing came all the way down and disappeared somewhere he couldn't see.

The intoxicating smell of the night wafted into the cab. The ocean, the earth, the flowers, the people . . . the food!

…..

In the middle of the State Comptroller's speech, Steve did a double take. There, poised on the entryway steps was Lieutenant Catherine Rollins. Her dark hair done up with rhinestone clips, she wore an outrageously form fitting dress with a slit up the side that went nearly to the top of her hip. A shapely leg played peek-a-boo in a way that made his heart pound. If you asked Steve what color the gown was, (teal), he couldn't tell you. All he saw was the creamy skin and raven hair of his woman.

The orchestra, as though right on cue for Cath's entrance, began a fanfare to signal the arrival of yet another dignitary on the dais. Governor Denning was announced and the tall man strode royally across the stage as Cath made her own sinuous way down the steps and toward the Five-0 table. Everyone in the venue who happened to spy her progress across the floor forgot about the 'big boss' now taking the stage.

The tall commander so wanted to launch himself at her but doing so in front of the gathered crowd would be most unseemly to say the least. Instead, he stood and pulled out her chair for her as the other men at the table stood politely and smiled, quietly murmuring their greetings.

_So, this is Steve's mysterious lieutenant. Not too shabby! _thought Angela Williams as she and her 'date' smiled a greeting at the new arrival.

_Crap! No wonder Steve hasn't strayed! _was the sole thought in the profiler's lovely head. _I never stood a chance!_

They had all just settled again in their seats as Denning began his address. Steve's and Cath's hands quickly entwined under the table, the actual touch of skin on skin so much more than a long-distance phone call.

Denning droned on for nearly twenty minutes. At the fifteen minute mark, he asked Five-0 to stand and acknowledge the applause as he spent another few minutes extolling their contribution to the peace and safety enjoyed by the citizens of the great State of Hawaii.

There was quite the ovation as Steve, Danny, Chin, Kono, Lori and at the urging of his comrades, Max, stood to accept the thanks due them. They all had smiles to show the crowd except, of course, Steve who gave them his 'aneurism' face - the one he apparently used for all public appearances, (and mug shots).

The other members of Five-0 had all noted it. Someday, they'd have to break their boss of that habit but, for now, it underlined the very seriousness of their mission to serve and protect the citizens of the fiftieth state - it _is_ kind of intimidating and besides, it keeps the kids in line.

Cath had missed the main meal but had arrived in time for the dessert course. Their papaya glace' sponge cake with mango sorbet sat untouched as Steve and Cath gazed at each other longingly, not even noticing when Danny on one side and Kono on the other snatched up the un-eaten desserts.

Grace giggled as her father held his finger up to silence her as he put the plate between himself and his daughter and handed her Cath's spoon as well.

Denning was winding down. _About damn time, _thought the blonde detective as he put another spoonful of the purloined confection into his mouth.

….

He threaded his way through the forest of legs and feet. His human was in this forest somewhere. He paused every now and then to snatch up a piece of fish that someone had left for him on the floor under the tables. How kind of them. There'd been nothing to eat in the rolling box. He was very hungry. The tall man would feed him. As soon as he found his human and had been fed he would take a nap in his lap.

He wandered unnoticed across the crowded floor. It was very noisy here. It kind of sounded like the noise his human liked when they traveled in the rolling box but it hurt his ears because it was so loud here. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. There was that smell! The smell of strange creatures from strange places. He smelled the man who hurt one of his human's females last night. Pupils dilated and ears flattened to his skull he crept toward it. The fur along his spine stood at attention as a low growl rumbled in his chest.

He'd have killed the evil man already if his human hadn't pulled him away last night. He sensed the tall man had wanted to let him continue the attack and he was just getting a good grip on the leg when he was plucked off his prey. Why did his human stop him from finishing his task?

The scent was stronger now. He followed it toward the place he'd first entered. He had a job to do. No one would stop him this time.

...

Ricardo waited for the signal. He'd already taken out the fireworks marshal with one deadly thrust of his blade. The terrified technician trembled at the computerized control console, a large scary gun now aimed at his head.

By the time they found out the cause of the 'accident' it would be long after he was back home enjoying a mojito on the veranda, thought the henchman.

The fireworks - powerful as missiles - were now aimed directly at the gathered partygoers on the shore side ballroom. Only the rockets that were part of the build-up to the grand finale were aimed at the sky.

A warm, moist breeze blew across his sweaty body; the air nearly the same temperature as his skin. It felt almost like a hand brushing across his flesh. El mano del Diablo, (the hand of the Devil), he thought. What he was doing would, surely, send him to Hell. With an evil grin he concluded he'd just have to have a good time until then. He idly wondered if 'El Gato del Diablo' would be there as well. He could do without that creature.

It was almost time. The speaker's voice drifted across the water. He could hear the words 'Five-0 and the name 'McGarrett'. He knew that name. The bastard would be dead soon. He would meet his end in a spectacular way, befitting a man like that. He had quite the reputation. Muy bravo. Oh well, even the brave die . . . _especially the brave._

...

TBC


	23. Rocket's Red Glare

Chapter 23

**Here's another. Hope you like it. Reviews are not required but they sure as hell make sleep deprivation worthwhile.**

**Thank you for the kind words on the previous chapter, (maybe I just hallucinated them?). Hope this chapter makes sense. I reworked it several times until I crashed. I'm sure mistakes are in there somewhere. As you know, they're are all mine.**

**Disclaimer: Only in my fevered dreams does CBS let me have my way with them. Otherwise, it's just me, my TV and a quart of rocky road, (and two puzzled cats and an even more puzzled husband.)**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Rocket's Red Glare

Denning ended his speech with a flourish as everyone stood to applaud. Danny figured it was out of politeness. The words didn't seem anything extraordinary. It hadn't been the Gettysburg Address or anything - at least nothing that deserved a standing ovation. Totally bored, he looked over at Steve who, he was surprised, was aware enough of his surroundings to actually stand up and clap politely. It may as well have been a speech about hamsters for all that it mattered to his distracted partner. _Steve will, no doubt, be in a better mood tomorrow . . . tired . . . but definitely in a better mood,_ thought the blonde with a wicked smile.

"Now," said the announcer of the evening, one of those vacuous, hair-gelled, weather people from a local station, "If you'd all look toward our beautiful harbor, the fireworks presentation is about to begin. We'll start with a salute to our men and women in the military who protect our shores so bravely and then we'll end with the traditional 'Auld Lang Syne'. It will be a spectacular display to bring in the New Year so get your glasses ready for a toast, grab your partner for that midnight kiss and enjoy."

As if to deliberately break the mood, someone's cell rang. They'd all been cautioned to mute their phones before the speeches began but, obviously, someone had ignored the directive. Kono looked at her date disapprovingly as he answered the shrill sound.

"Yeah, almost." he said without the usual requisite greeting when answering a call. Then turning to Kono said, "Be right back, baby. Don't start without me", flashing Kono one of his blinding used car salesman smiles, he strode quickly off toward the side entrance.

The orchestra began playing "Stars and Stripes Forever" as they all turned toward the barge floating several yards off shore on the nearly still water.

…

Max Bergman felt a buzzing. He hoped it was coming from his phone. He hadn't had that much alcohol yet. Patting his pockets, he located the device and apologetically turned away to look at the screen. It was a reminder he'd set for himself. He'd been far too distracted by the lovely Punani to trust he'd remember that he had some information for McGarrett.

He'd, finally, on his own time mind you, figured out the composition of the kibble found in one of the dead men's pockets those many weeks ago.

He needed to get McGarrett's attention. The man seemed to be entirely distracted by the woman seated next to him. It was easy to see why but he had to give him the update before the alcohol kicked in. There was no telling what the evening would bring once it did.

Last time he'd drunk this much was when he'd attended the Star Trek convention in Des Moines. After several peach daiquiris in the hotel bar, he'd woken up in his room next to someone dressed as an Andorian pleasure worker and he, himself, wore only the top half of his Klingon battle uniform. Where the bottom half and the rest of his costume were, he had no idea but OMG, a Kingon/Andorian hook-up!

When she also came-to, his blue-skinned companion seemed as horrified as he and they quickly parted company; the Andorian pushing open the door to the hallway and peeking out cautiously to make sure no one would witness such a horrifying repudiation of intergalactic social convention.

It seemed to take days to remove the contact transferred blue make-up from his skin. Every time he showered, he find it in places it shouldn't have been, (at least nowhere he'd admit to in civilized company). He still couldn't remember exactly what had happened but it was wrong on so many levels.

"Steve!" he called across the table but the man never looked up. "Commander!"

McGarrett looked up slightly startled. Lost in Cath's dark eyes, not much of anything else even registered right now.

He quirked his brows in question as the little M.E. bade him to come around to his side of the table. Brushing his hand tenderly across his date's shoulder, he stood and made his way to Max.

"I've . . . had some results on the search for the source of the animal pellets. The ones found in the pockets of the man who died in the crash during your . . . attempted murder." stated Max somewhat proudly.

McGarrett waited for him to elaborate but realized he would have to prompt the medical examiner. There was never any sort of normal flow of conversation with the man. It was all done in fits and starts.

"What did you find Max?" The tall man noted his elfin friend's eyes were beginning to look a little glazed behind his thick glasses.

"It was very . . . difficult to ascertain. As I'd thought, it wasn't a . . . standard commercial product. It was a proprietary blend made for only two entities on the islands."

The M.E. stopped again, apparently waiting for a prompt from Steve. _Jeeze, this is like pulling teeth!_ thought the tall man.

"OK, what was the stuff for and who were those entities?" (he'd play along if that's what it took to get the information).

"It was a special composition of animal and vegetable proteins meant for large arachnids. A . . . supplement actually. It was formulated by a local feed provider for the Honolulu Zoo's reptile house and a company called Island Imports . . . also located in Honolulu. I only had time to do a . . . cursory inquiry as to the nature of its imports but . . . I thought it strange that a dealer in objects d'art would need such a product."

The little M.E.'s eyes were beginning to look unfocused now- even though he was still making sense. Steve hoped Punani was the designated driver.

"Thanks Max, I'll do some research on Island Imports. Good job."

"Why . . . thank you . . . Steve." beamed Dr. Max Bergman happily, his face flushed with an alcohol fueled glow.

Steve re-took his seat next to Cath, his mind beginning to puzzle out the new information. _Why would an importer of what was probably expensive designer crap need vitamins for big spiders?_

Malia, wearing a filmy white gown and with her signature flower behind her ear, kissed her new husband on the cheek and excused herself to go 'powder her nose'. Kono and Cath decided to join her and the three women, with Gracie in tow, went off to find the ladies' room.

"Why is it that women always have to go in groups to the restroom?" asked Danny turning toward his sister.

"Dunno actually. Maybe it's a safety in numbers thing." speculated Angela as she crossed her knees and brought her foot up to rub her aching instep as subtlely as she could under the table.

"I guess it's also not correct to say, 'I gotta go take a leak'?" mused her brother.

"No, not unless you can pee standing up." laughed Angie.

"I know a girl who can do that." blurted out Max, the alcohol now making its presence known.

All eyes went to Punani who immediately squeaked, "Not me!"

McGarrett only snorted at the exchange as he busied himself with his smart phone, looking up information on Island Imports while he waited for Cath's return.

After a few pokes at the small screen it revealed the information he sought. "Sonofabitch!" he nearly shouted as the people remaining at the table were startled at the outburst.

McGarrett growled something under his breath as he sprang off with what his partner recognized as his 'locked on target' face.

WAIT! WHAT? He yelled to the departing man, not getting an answer. _Oh fuck! What now! _thought the detective as he automatically followed his fast moving partner; nimbly dodging around the tables and chairs toward the side exit. "Kono! Stay with Gracie!" he yelled over his shoulder as he dashed past the small group of females on their way back to the Five-0 table. He dreaded the results of what he thought he heard Steve mutter as he'd rushed off.

The Hawaiian girl looked on helplessly as Chin, Lori and even Angie joined the chase; the women slipping off their shoes to hand to her then reaching to hold up the hems of long gowns to give freedom of movement for the unexpected pursuit.

"Max! What's wrong! What's going on? Tell me!" ordered Kono as she arrived at their table, dropping the shoes on its surface. Water and wine goblets toppled over with a violent clink as she grabbed the little M.E. by his lapels.

"Tell her!" chimed in Cath as she grabbed a worried Gracie to keep her from darting off after her father. Malia also joined the chorus for the little man to divulge what had just occurred.

Max knew he was outnumbered. Whether McGarrett would condone his action or not, (he was surrounded by a group of worried women all more than willing to beat the crap out of him for the information) . . . he spilled.

"I researched some evidence found at the scene of the crash that took place during the original attempt on Steve's and Danny's lives. I just gave the results of that research to Steve. It has a connection to the Honolulu Zoo and a company called Island Imports." he quickly blurted out.

He was so out of his comfort zone dealing with live and upset people, (the upside was that alcohol seemed to smooth out his speech pattern.)

"It can't be! That's Tim's company!" exclaimed Kono, trying her best not to let hurt and betrayal show on he face. She stared unbelievingly at the M.E. as she felt Malia's and Punani's hands on her shoulders. _This just couldn't be!_

Reminded Cath in a strong tone, "Kono, Danny wants you to make sure Gracie's safe! That's your job right now, to take care of everyone here."

Kono nodded slightly, but looked absolutely stricken by the revelation.

Finding the small nod enough of an assurance, Catherine shucked off her shoes as well and the Navy lieutenant sprinted after Steve and the others.

…..

The orchestra had shifted to its second number, 'The Marine Corps Hymn' as McGarrett, his team not far behind, dashed out the side entrance to find Grayson leaning against a light stanchion, a cigarette between his lips and speaking into his cell phone.

_It was almost time to leave._ He just had to confirm status with Ricardo.

The night sky lit up with magically intense color as rockets ascended to burst spectacularly above them. With the noise of the display, he didn't hear anyone come up behind him.

"Yeah" said the smooth man to the unseen person on the other end of the call, "Three more songs to go. When they start the last one . . . you remember it, I played it for you last night . . . when they start that one, you light 'em all up. They won't know what hit 'em. Tu saves? . . . Bueno." He said, getting the answer he apparently wanted before ending the call.

"Bueno que?" he heard a voice with a low, dangerous tone right behind his ear.

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Grayson turned to stare into the glacial dark blue eyes of one Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett.

With a smirk, he casually dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out slowly beneath his expensive Italian made shoes. Though panicking on the inside, he appeared calm as he tried to gather his wits to, plausibly, explain away the conversation.

"I was just talking to my warehouse manager. He's supposed to be supervising the extermination of the rats we've had plaguing our warehouses. You know those things can get to be the size of cats? They can do a lot of damage. It can be very expensive. It's best to get rid of them once and for all." the suave man's eyes narrowed, thinking himself clever at the multiple double meanings of his explanation.

"On New Year's Eve?" said McGarrett, his stare intense and unblinking. It was like looking into the barrel of a gun.

"Why are you so interested in my business?" was the insolent response.

Ignoring Grayson's question, the SEAL said "So, from what I overheard, you catch rats to the sound of music? Is this some sort of humane way of exterminating them? Put them to sleep with military marches? Wouldn't something a little more soothing be better for that?" McGarrett's mouth turned up at the corners but his eyes remained as cold and dark and deadly as those of the Fer de Lance. "It must be a stealth attack. I suppose the rats will be very surprised." purred the low, lethal voice.

Several others were now rushing up to join them. He knew it was now or never if he was going to make a run for it. Shoving hard at McGarrett, he tried to break away. It was like pushing against a brick wall. Before he could even blink, he found his arm pinned painfully behind his back, the upper part nearly separating from his shoulder socket.

"Call your man and tell him the party's over before I twist off this arm and beat you to death with it." growled the SEAL in the same calm, deadly voice; leaving not the slightest bit of doubt in Grayson's mind that the man would do just that.

"NOW!" thundered the McGarrett, finally losing his patience with the smug bastard.

Grayson fumbled with the phone he still clutched and hit redial. He was relieved when Ricardo picked-up on the first ring.

"Abort the mission." He said into the phone and reconfirming it in Spanish, "Abortar la mision".

"You sure, Jefe?" asked the henchman sounding disappointed. This was a surprising directive; they'd put so much planning into it and it seemed to be going perfectly. Oh well, not his to question. _Maybe El Jefe had a better plan?_

"Just meet me at the dock, like we arranged." said his boss.

"Si senore, you're the boss." said Ricardo ending the call and turning to the trembling technician who looked about to wet himself.

"This is your lucky night, mi amigo." He said as he shoved the man off the barge, the tech landing with a yell and a loud splash in the dark water below.

At least he got to send him for a swim. Killing wasn't really his thing, it was only his job; no sense wasting the bullet or the effort. Maybe sharks would eat him? Oh well, pase lo que pase, (whatever happens).

Grayson dropped the phone to his side with a resigned sigh, his other arm still in the iron grip of the Five-0 Commander. Williams and the rest were now assembled behind their leader.

"Chin, Danny, call HPD and get ready to meet whatever boat shows up at the end of this pier!" ordered the commander as he pushed Grayson back toward the main entrance of the hotel.

Suddenly, and with a horrifyingly familiar screech, something came rushing out of the darkness. "OW FUCK!" yelled Grayson as the thing sank sharp fangs into his ankle.

The smuggler kicked out and sent the little animal flying. Using the distraction, he tried to knee McGarrett in the groin but hit bone instead as the SEAL managed to twist his hip toward the impact.

Steve grunted as he was knocked off balance enough to loosen his grip. Grayson managed to thrust a hard elbow into the SEAL's ribs which sent him stumbling against Danny. The blonde detective caught his partner to keep him from going all the way to the ground but the desperate smuggler wrenched himself loose from McGarrett's hold and took off like a rabbit – a fast one.

Recovering his balance and breaking away from his 2-IC, McGarrett once again took up the chase. From the corner of his eye, he could see a little grey blur pass him like a bullet.

With nearly the entire team in hot pursuit, it looked like a slapstick comedy as people in formal wear, men in tuxes and shoeless women with their evening gowns hiked up to their thighs, thundered like a well-dressed herd after their suspect. Of course, leading the charge was a small grey cat.

Cujo and his chosen human were both locked on the same target. The outcome was almost a foregone conclusion – at least to cat and SEAL.

_Where the fuck did that cat come from! _thought the running man. He could hear the pounding footsteps behind him. In a couple more, McGarrett would be on him.

"Back to the barge!" he yelled to Ricardo as the small boat docked at the end of the narrow pier. "We're gonna finish it!"

_If I'm going down, I'm gonna take half of this fucking Island with me! McGarrett's not going to win! _silently vowed the running man.

At the end of the pier, Ricardo saw his jefe didn't stand a chance. Just behind his frantic boss was El Gato del Diablo and what looked to be the entire cast of a Busby Berkeley musical.

Holy Shit!

Grayson would never get to the boat before he'd be overtaken. He saw the man look over his shoulder and even before he had time to turn back around, the demonio had clamped its evil jaws around his jefe's forearm just before the one named McGarrett slammed into him like a freight train and they all went into the water.

Making an executive decision, Ricardo put the sleek boat into gear and roared away from the mooring. He had his orders.

The three tumbled into the water in a tangle of arms, legs and paws. Grayson screamed in pain as he felt fangs sink into the back of his neck.

There was more yelling, splashing and screeching - human and feline, as Grayson did his best to grab McGarrett around the neck to hold him under. The cat clung relentlessly to his prey, claws hooked into tender skin.

The SEAL fought to keep Grayson from getting the upper hand, trying to hold his breath as the slimeball pushed him below the surface. Even while under physical stress, holding his breath for minutes at a time, was normally easy but his lungs weren't yet capable of it. He was beginning to see black spots as his body screamed for oxygen. Desperate, he fought with all his remaining strength to get the bastard's hands off him and get to the surface for a breath.

He heard Grayson's sputtering roar, "GET OFF ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" as he swung at the animal clinging to the top of his head like a badly fitting toupee.

The smuggler screeched one more time before letting go his grip on the nearly unconscious SEAL as the cat's razor sharp claws raked dangerously close to his eyes. A deep gouge on his forehead began to dribble a diluted stream of blood into the water.

It was just enough of a distraction for McGarrett to gain the upper hand and, gasping for air, pulled Grayson below the surface with Cujo still attached like a barnacle. The determined little cat wouldn't loose his hold and went under the inky surface with his prey.

By now, there were other bodies in the water – one of them Angie's and the other Chin's. Grayson surfaced sputtering and coughing. McGarrett, with the last of his strength, managed to fasten his arm around the smuggler's neck in a choke hold. He closed his eyes and held the man as tightly as he could until he heard Chin's voice.

"It's OK Steve, I got him. You can let go now!"

Grayson was limp and had stopped struggling as Chin pulled him away from his exhausted boss. It had taken a moment for Chin's words to register. That last time Grayson held him under, he'd inhaled what seemed like most of Pearl Harbor. Any oxygen he'd managed to take in had to share space with water. He was perilously close to passing out as he relaxed his hold.

McGarrett could feel Grayson being tugged away as he felt someone's hands grip him under the arms and the struggle to stay afloat became easier.

"Steve, I got you. Let me help you back." It was Angie's voice. Her strong hands kept him above water and guided him toward those poised on the pier to pull him from the harbor. Coughing and gagging, the sky and sea almost seemed to blend into one but the sky split with color as another rocket burst above them.

He could hear people on the pier yelling encouragement – could see hands outstretched toward him.

"Angie! We've gotta stop that boat! They're gonna point the fireworks at the shore! We've gotta stop it!" coughed Steve.

"There's no time! We'll have to get everyone inside the buildings!" she exclaimed.

"Get to my truck!" he choked as he again nearly slipped beneath the water. "It's at the west end of the lot, in front of the shirt shop. Look in the bed's lock box. Take Lori with you, she'll know what to do! And tell someone to get that orchestra to shut the fuck up! It's a signal for the attack!"

"Give me your keys Steve!" said Angie without any questions, there was no time.

With the Jersey girl helping to keep him from slipping below the surface as he reached into his pocket, he brought the keys out carefully. If he dropped them now, there would be no way to find them in the deep murky harbor. There was no time for screw-ups.

Suddenly, Cath was there in the water with them. She took over for Angela as Steve shakily but carefully handed the truck keys to the detective.

Taking them, Angie swam quickly back to the pier where her brother and Chin were in the process of reciting the Miranda and handcuffing a soggy and bleeding Tim Grayson. The man looked like he'd been through a meat grinder. Blood poured in rivulets from his lacerated scalp and face; more dripped from the deep fang marks on his neck.

Keys in hand, Angela hauled herself up the rope ladder – not an easy feat with about thirty pounds of wet cloth clinging to her legs. Reaching the planks of the pier, she yelled for Lori to follow her and took off at a dead run back up the pier toward the parking lot, her bare feet leaving wet prints in her wake.

Cath guided Steve toward the pier. When she hooked her arm under his chin and with strong strokes pulled him along toward it, he was too exhausted to protest.

From the water, she saw Danny handing the prisoner over to some HPD uniforms. The smuggler had a bloody towel draped around his neck and she could hear him whining. Hell, they could probably hear him all the way to Lahaina.

With a moment for his oxygen deprived brain to sort out what had so quickly gone down, Steve realized there was something other than the impending rocket attack to cause alarm. Something else was wrong.

Something was very wrong . . . someone was missing!

"Where's Cujo!" he gasped, prying loose Cath's arm and turning in a watery 360 to frantically search the darkness for the animal.

"Cujo!" he yelled as Cath tried not to let go of him fearing Steve, SEAL or not, was far too tired and weak to make it to safety on his own.

"Cujo!" she called out joining in; knowing the stubborn man wouldn't get out of the water until they'd found the little cat.

Steve realized that last time he'd pulled the sleazebag back up, Cujo hadn't come up with him. _Shit!_

"Cujo" yelled Steve frantically between gags and coughs. Cath, Chin and several of those on the pier joined him in shouting the little animal's name into the darkness.

There was no sign of his furry friend.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

TBC – One more to go

**Note: Once again, my apologies to any Star Trek fans. Actually checked with supposed authorities reclined on sofa who were actually watching an episode when I posed the question about an unlikely pairing.**


	24. Bombs Bursting in Air

Chapter 24

**Here is the final chapter. I decided to make it one long-assed chapter instead of breaking it up into two. Too much coffee again!**

**Applause and fuzzy kittens to those of you who guessed what Steve had in the truck. To those who wondered if there will be more Cujo stories, the answer is yes but it will be awhile, (the poor cat is pooped - he needs his beauty sleep.) The next Five-0 entry will have nary a critter in it. It will be dark, angsty and clearly labeled as such but I hope you'll read it anyway.**

**Thank you all for sticking with the furry piranha and his pets and for your kind comments. I do listen to you guys and tried to incorporate some of your ideas into the story. I'm so lucky to have such wonderfully creative readers. Thank you to francis2 for the idea for the final scene.**

**Disclaimer: Didn't make any money from this and don't own anything but OC's, plots, and the mistakes. Just glad we all lived through it.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Bombs Bursting in Air?

A call from Danny had scrambled the harbor patrol to intercept Grayson's henchman. Whether it would be in time to stop the resumed scheme was the big question.

In the middle of a rousing rendition of Anchors Away, hotel security had notified everyone in the ballroom to clear the area. The orchestra came to a ragged halt and the music was replaced by a panicked rumble as everyone rushed toward the exits.

Chin had dragged the battered, half-conscious Grayson to the pier where Danny, with the help of a few bystanders had pulled him from the water.

Splashing around in the ocean wasn't the blonde Jersey detective's idea of a good time – especially in the dark. One wouldn't even be able to see whatever creatures waited beneath the surface to pull you under and eat you.

He'd been glad there were plenty of willing swimmers to rescue McGarrett's sorry ass, (not that he wouldn't and not that he hasn't in the past), but the man was like a freakin' bullet train when he locked onto something. If he and his mini-ninja wanted to go for a midnight swim . . . well, more power to them. Besides, he'd never get back his deposit if he handed back the rented tux after taking a dip while wearing it.

Danny realized Chin didn't seem to have a problem swimming in formal attire. _Perhaps it hadn't yet occurred to him that he's going to lose money on the deal? Maybe the state will reimburse him? After all, the monkey-suit did bite the big one in the service of the citizens of Hawaii. Denning would approve it . . . right?_

As he stood watching the Hawaiian finish signing off on the transfer of Grayson from Five-0's custody to HPD's, Angie, (resembling a drowned rat or a landlocked mermaid, depending on one's perspective), sped by on a mission, a still dry Lori in tow. The Jersey girl and the profiler passed him in a flat-out run, disappearing behind the foliage that lined the walkway leading to both the ballroom and the parking area beyond.

_What the fuck now!_ thought Danny. He had to assume McGarrett had sent them to stop Grayson's henchman.

They'd been running in the direction of where Steve usually parked when they'd come to the Hilton for drinks in the bar. He knew his crazy partner kept 'things' in the Silverado he wouldn't dare store in the Camaro, (well, he would if Danny would let him). He hoped it wasn't what he suspected it might be. _McGarrett isn't that crazy . . . is he?_

Steve still wasn't back on land yet. Torn between making sure his partner was safe and following Angie and Lori, he saw HPD tuck Grayson away into the back of a squad car. The man looked as though he'd been tumbled in a cement mixer filled with barbed wire. Danny hoped the bastard came down with cat-scratch fever or something equally as nasty sounding. He'd have to congratulate Cujo on having done such a thorough job of mauling the flaming asshole.

With a frustrated swipe through his hair, he decided to go search for the women. He'd just taken a step toward the parking lot when he heard the frantic calls from the water behind him.

**…..**

The slim boat's powerful motor now roaring loudly; Ricardo steered it quickly toward the barge. There was no longer any need for stealth.

He knew the rockets had automatically reset to a vertical position when the power had been shut down. _Clever Americanos and their safety precautions,_ thought the henchman. Well, his orders were clear. His jefe had spoken. Whether the man survived the evil gato and his owner or not, this would certainly be tribute to the man's genius.

He quickly boarded the barge and secured the power boat to it. There would most certainly be opportunity to escape in the chaos and confusion of the attack. He wasn't worried over that detail. He just had to make this fast before that overdressed posse found him.

He powered-up the computer console, waiting for it to reboot so he could punch in the coordinates to re-align the trajectory to, once again, point shoreward.

_This is going to be spectacular,_ happily thought the henchman as he hummed along to the 'Marine's Hymn'.

**….**

They had to get to whatever McGarrett had in the truck. Angie surmised it was a long-range gun of some kind that could be used to take out the guy in the boat.

Reaching the parking lot in less than a minute, they could see the closed-up T-shirt shop on the far side of it. Neither woman noticed the gravel and small rocks that cut into the bottoms of their bare feet as they raced over the asphalt.

In the glow of the parking lot's high-pressure sodium lights, colors were distorted. There were no reds or blues, just shades of muddy yellow. Luckily, color wasn't an issue as the big truck loomed over its neighboring vehicles. While still a few feet from it; to make sure it was the right one, Angie pressed a button on the electronic key in her hand and was rewarded with a chirp and blinking of marker lamps. She vaulted into the back and searching through the small assortment on the key ring, quickly found the one for the huge steel lock box.

With Lori looking over her shoulder, she lifted the heavy lid and pulled out the luggage to toss it aside. Beneath it lay miscellaneous things like camping equipment, tools and sporting goods. They were all stowed with incredible neatness - bless McGarrett's little OCD heart. Practically tossing them over her shoulder, along with coils of rope and what she recognized as climbing equipment; she came to a large wooden box about the size and shape of a small narrow coffin.

She heard Lori exclaim, "That's it!" as she was shouldered aside by the slender woman who deftly used a discarded hammer to pry off the hasp. There before them lay a shoulder mount grenade launcher . . ._ Whoa, a fucking RPG!_ realized a thrilled Angela.

The Five-0 profiler leaned in to pluck the disassembled weapon from the box and began to slap the components together as though she'd done it a hundred times before.

_There's more to Lori than first impressions would indicate_, thought Angela admiringly.

"Let's go!" yelled Lori, handing the rocket grenades to the detective.

Leaping down from the truck and landing with a grunt, she shouldered the over twenty-pound weapon and doubled-timed back to the terrace ballroom; the Jersey girl in her wake like a bridesmaid who carried munitions instead of flowers.

**...**

Ricardo heard the first rocket click into place. He smiled knowingly saying to no one in particular, "Bueno" as he stood with finger poised over the launch button.

**…**

Rushing to the edge of the planking and looking outward into the near darkness, he saw his half-drowned partner and Cath still in the water and calling out for the shredded Grayson's worst nightmare.

Steve's choking calls were raspy and desperate. Cath's voice was actually stronger sounding but no less desperate.

Scanning the surface, the detective could see nothing of the cat who, at the most, would be merely a speck in the dark water; the only illumination provided by the few low-wattage lamps on the pier itself. The night was too dark to see anything smaller than the Queen Mary in the inky water.

He thought he heard a noise somewhere beyond Steve and Cath where the glow of lights didn't reach. He listened closely but didn't hear it again.

Removing his jacket, wallet, keys, phone and shoes, he made a perfect shallow dive and quickly swam toward where he'd heard the noise.

"EVERYBODY! SHUT UP!" He yelled loudly as he stopped to tread water; looking around himself and trying to again locate the sound. A hush came over searchers and observers.

There it was again; a faint strangled squawk and a muted metallic sound that was probably a waterlogged jingle bell. It was just off to his left. Swimming a few feet further out, he reached toward where he'd last heard it and felt something that definitely didn't belong in the ocean – wet fur. His hand closed around the little body that now floated passively on the surface.

"I got him!" he yelled as a cheer went up from the now larger crowd as several more bored and/or tipsy ballgoers had made their way to the edge of the pier for entertainment.

Danny paddled back toward them, holding the limp little animal aloft. Reaching his goal, the blonde handed the obviously unconscious, (if not dead), cat to Chin who now clung to the rope ladder dangling from the top of the pier to the water's surface.

The Hawaiian took the inert little body and climbed the rest of the way to the pier's wooden planking with Danny right behind. Steve, with Cath's assistance, had also just made 'land'. He dragged himself slowly up the rope ladder and crawled/stumbled toward them.

"Danny! He's not breathing!" rasped the SEAL as he took the inert animal into hands shaking from cold, exhaustion and the remnants of adrenaline.

**…..**

Lori and Angela skid to a halt on the slick surface of the nearly empty terrace. Having been warned to take cover, panicked ballgoers rushed toward the entrance into the hotel.

Moving quickly to the railing, Lori put the RPG to her shoulder as Angela loaded a grenade and sharply tapped her on the back to let her know she was good to go.

"Stand back!" yelled Lori as she sighted on the barge. She knew the weapon was good for almost a thousand yards but was decently accurate for less than half that.

Through the scope, she could make out someone moving about on the stationary vessel. Inhaling then slowly releasing her breath, she held it and squeezed the trigger. The recoil nearly knocked her on her ass.

**….**

The unworried henchman could hear the hum of the mechanism aligning the rocket's new trajectory. He waited to hear it lock into place. Just a little bit more and he'd hear the gratifying click.

His finger hovered impatiently over the button as he waited. _Just a couple more seconds . . ._

**…**

"Oh, shit!" muttered the blonde as he quickly took back the limp body from his nearly drowned partner who, himself, was barely able to breathe.

Without even stopping to think, the detective swept a finger through the little mouth to ensure a clear airway then put his own mouth over the cat's muzzle as he began giving quick puffs of breath, stopped every few to check if there was any sign of Cujo breathing on his own.

McGarrett swayed anxiously beside them until, legs no longer able to hold him, and somewhat steadied by Cath, he folded into a wet heap to land in a sitting position with a loud thump; never taking his eyes off Cujo and Danny.

Suddenly, during one of the pauses, a gurgle and a small jet of water spewed from the feline's mouth. Danny quickly dangled the little body head down as more fluid dribbled forth and the cat began to gag and struggle weakly, expelling water he'd obviously ingested.

Now breathing on his own, Cujo squawked in waterlogged confusion. Danny, holding him like a soggy time bomb brought him to Steve who sat looking up at them anxiously; someone's pink Pashmina shawl draped incongruously over his shoulders.

Handing the weakly struggling cat to his relieved and still nearly breathless partner, he shook his head in amusement/relief/whatever . . . it was all good at this point.

From the direction of the terrace, came the thud and whoosh of the RPG as a rocket grenade sped toward the barge in the harbor. Steve recognized the sound immediately. _Angie and Lori make quite a team, _thought the SEAL. _Cagney and Lacy come to life with military grade weapons._

…..

The path of the grenade glowed in the darkness as the missile streaked toward the static vessel. The women held their breaths for the brief moment it took to reach its target.

They were rewarded with only a dull explosion and a geyser of water as it hit slightly short of its target.

"Shit!" exclaimed the profiler.

"Again!" she ordered and hefted the device to her shoulder as Angie slid in another rocket grenade, once again tapping Lori smartly then leaping back without being told.

"Alright you little motherfucker, this one's especially for you!" growled Lori as she carefully sighted and, once again, exhaling slowly then holding it - pulled the trigger.

Angela's opinion of the slender woman ratcheted up another notch as the grenade streaked off into the night - the salty oath seeming to give it speed and , hopefully, accuracy.

_The impact of that recoil is gonna leave a helluva bruise,_ thought the Jersey girl admiringly.

….

There was a loud splash and a muffled boom as salt water rained down on him.

"Damn! Somebody means business!" he exclaimed aloud.

Though the fireworks rockets weren't yet fully locked into place, he stabbed his finger at the launch button. Only the first cannon responded to his command.

With a thunderous boom, the rocket streaked off toward the shoreside ballroom.

…

Danny could hear people screaming as a bright flash came from the direction of the terrace.

"Gracie!" he yelled forgetting about his half-drowned partner and his cat as he started a mad dash toward the ballroom.

He'd gotten only a few steps when he spotted Kono and his daughter - Malia not far behind - rushing toward him.

Just beyond the running trio, a shower of multicolored sparks fanned outward; the bright display almost simultaneous with a loud boom that echoed across the water. A blinding flash lit up the night sky as the barge disintegrated.

It was like the devil had decided to crack open the earth like an egg and let its hellish core burst forth . . . _not an altogether unknown phenomenon on the volcanic island,_ thought Danny as he reflexively hit the deck.

…

"INCOMING!" yelled Lori as she spotted the rocket streaking toward them right before she was nearly blinded by the gigantic, sun bright, flash of her vaporizing target when the rockets onboard exploded all at once.

Already falling backward from the recoil, she felt Angie pull her down the rest of the way as the detective threw herself atop her; a shield from the incoming missile.

**…..**

_This is going to be fucking spectacular! _were Ricardo's last thoughts as his world ended in just that manner when rest of the fireworks ignited, courtesy of a well-aimed rocket grenade. A most spectacular fireball indeed rose into the, now, brightly lit sky.

**…..**

Dropping to the ground, Kono pressed Gracie to the surface beneath her; the Hawaiian woman's slight body shielding the child from harm. After a moment of waiting for the fireball to dim and to make sure there weren't any more to follow, after a long minute, Kono stood and helped Gracie to her feet, brushing dirt from the front of the girl's pink taffeta dress and straightening her barrettes.

"You OK, honey?" asked Kono; getting only a silent nod as a reply - Gracie's eyes as big as saucers.

Malia had caught up with them and proceeded to check both Gracie and Kono for injury and found none.

"Now that all the scary stuff is over, let's go find Danno and Steve. I'm sure they'll want to know you're OK." Kono smiled reassuringly at the still speechless girl; taking her hand to go in search of the others.

Spotting Danny, she let loose her hold on Gracie and watched the girl dash into her father's arms; the scene surreal in the bright glow from offshore.

He could tell his trembling daughter was trying very hard not to cry, or perhaps it was he who was trembling and trying not to cry; it really didn't matter because Gracie was safe in his arms.

He held her tightly to him as he watched the barge go up in a final angry flare of multi colored explosions. Brain suddenly clicking back into gear, his next thought - _Where's Angie!_

He'd last seen her when the two women had flashed past him toward the ballroom terrace. His heart rate, once again quickened to jackhammer speed as his eyes took in the now darkened terrace before he saw two figures coming toward him through the drifting smoke.

The two women, arms around each other's shoulders and laughing their heads off, walked/staggered toward him.

"WHAT A RUSH!" exclaimed Angie, Her previous ladylike appearance a dim memory as her ripped, soggy gown hung in tatters and her hair now a wet, messy tangle of untamed curls. Lori, though drier, was nearly dragging the rocket launcher beside her; the profiler's gown obviously the worse-for-wear with what looked to be burn holes among the rips, tears and dirt.

"Wait! An RPG! What the . . . ", thought the detective, turning accusingly toward his partner who sat grinning broadly as he observed his reunited family. Steve was trying very hard to not feel guilty for being unable to help the women finish his job. He'd also missed the fun of blowing something up. Oh well, at least he knew Angie enjoyed it. He sure liked that girl.

…

Steve, counting heads to make sure everyone was safe, discovered that only Max was missing. Their diminutive colleague and Punani had been separated during all the excitement and only the frightened woman had found her way back to them.

Sending out a search party, they'd finally located the little M.E. talking to one of the large, bronze, dolphins decorating the hotel lobby. Even though the animated conversation was only one-sided, the little medical examiner/Klingon had been immensely entertained conversing with his metallic companion.

After the evening was over, Punani lead him back to their car, relieved that her man was safe. Even if he did talk to statuary when he was three-sheets-to-the-wind, she thought he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen. She drove.

"So, now you and the buzzsaw are tag teaming the bad guys, huh? If so, you two had better get your routine down. That one went a little rough, Babe."

Danny stood over his bedraggled partner still seated on the wooden planking. McGarrett only squinted tiredly up at him as he cradled the soggy little animal in his lap; Cath's arms around him as she sat next to the two nearly drowned warriors.

"Maybe I should just turn in my badge and let the two of you handle crime on this pile of smoking lava? I have to hand it to your barracuda, he did a pretty thorough job. Even if Grayson miraculously manages to get out of jail, he won't be in shape to import even a cockroach for quite awhile and I don't mean one of those big hissing ones from Madagascar."

"Hissing?" gasped his partner, telling himself oxygen was, as yet, too precious to waste on complete sentences. He'd been meticulously wiping his hands down the soaked fur of his mini-ninja-detective, trying to get as much water as possible out of Cujo's waterlogged coat without the aid of a towel.

"Yeah, I saw one on Animal Planet. It was freakin' disgusting." exclaimed Danny with a shudder.

Cujo quietly let his human do whatever he wanted - the little cat too tired to protest the feeble ministrations. Danny watched in amusement tempered with more than a bit of concern.

"Why don't you just wring him out like a dishrag?" he suggested. It only garnered a silent glare from his equally as waterlogged partner. "Well, maybe the two of you can share a hospital room."

_That_ got a reaction from the still winded man. "No hospital." he wheezed as Cath silently rolled her eyes at her stubborn friend.

"Sorry Babe, since both of you almost drowned in your attempt to go all wrecking crew on Grayson's ass, I think a visit to the ER would be appropriate – if not mandatory. Don't give me any lip about it either. You're kind of bluish again – not your color Rambo."

"Not bluish." wheezed McGarrett

"Well, your wolverine is." said Danny. "I don't think he's as happy as you are to take unplanned midnight swims. He hasn't gone through SEAL training."

McGarrett glanced down at his pissed looking cat. Cujo actually had what Danny would call aneurism face. Steve had always marveled at the expressiveness of the little cat's face.

Danny just shook his head. Cujo's current expression was way too much like his partner's 'Don't mess with me or I'll rip your arm off and shove it down your throat' face. The blonde actually took a step back in case the furry piranha decided to act on what his expression might indicate. No sense taking chances, to his misfortune, he'd miscalculated that look in the past.

_Maybe it's true that animals eventually start resembling their owners?_ thought Danny. After all, Steve's hair _is_ getting grayer by the day and the cat will probably come up with a goofy feline-style grin any moment now.

There were sirens in the distance. Someone sober enough and with a dry phone had called for at least one bus even before the end of the chase. The HPD people attending the soiree knew that anything involving the lethal Five-0 commander would probably require medical aid for someone – if not the services of the coroner.

As if magically, a dry towel and a blanket appeared from the crowd. The now sodden Pashmina was handed back to its owner with a thank you as the blanket was settled around the SEAL's shoulders. McGarrett took the offered towel and wrapped it around his furry back-up. In spite of the warm temperature, both man and cat were shivering.

"Everyone OK?" rasped out Five-0's commander, reconfirming his previous visual check of his team.

"We're all OK, Boss." he heard Kono's voice from behind him. "But somebody owes Lori a couple of very expensive dresses."

"No problem Kalakaua. If the state won't cover it, I will." laughed/coughed her boss.

"Hey, what about my tux?" asked Chin. "You covering that too? The rental shop is gonna be really pissed." The Hawaiian had removed his jacket and was wringing it out; a cascade of salt water splatting onto the pier.

Steve, with Danny's permission, had sent Gracie off with Max and Punani to the hotel coffee shop to get her some ice cream and to get Max some coffee, though all that would likely be accomplished is a wide-awake drunk. Gracie, like her father, could eat no matter what was going on around her.

He could sense Danny, now that the excitement had died down a little, was going to bring up the RPG issue. Steve knew the rants were just his partner's way of coping, especially when the man had Gracie's and Angie's safety to consider on top of everything else.

As if on schedule, the stressed detective, with one hand on hip and the other waving about in sharp gestures to emphasize his point, (_whatever the hell it is),_ thought Steve bracing himself for the loud soliloquy. His head was pounding and he was nearly as cold as he'd been in Jersey. He knew the headache had been caused by oxygen deprivation and he was hoping he wasn't getting a relapse of the bug that had nearly killed him.

"An RPG! . . . Really?" How long have you had _that_ rolling around in your truck, Steven?"

"Uhh . . . about four months?" was the hesitant reply. He almost elaborated by saying it wasn't 'rolling around' anywhere. It was very neatly and safely stowed away but, from past experience, he knew better than to interrupt Hurricane Danny in a full-on rant.

"Was this weapon ever stored in _my_ car?" demanded the blonde.

"Uhh, no, not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'?. Either it was or it wasn't. If it was, we have an issue here. If it wasn't" he huffed resignedly, "We're good. Besides, it did sorta come in handy."

"We're good?"

"Of course that's the only thing you'd hear out of this whole conversation you moron but . . . yeah. The caveat being only if that weapon spent not so much as an hour in the vehicle in which my child rides to and from school! The vehicle that takes her to soccer practice and fucking ballet practice! Not even one hour, you over-amped, adrenaline junkie, Rambo wannabe who keeps mountain lions as pets!"

Steve watched fascinated as his partner's hands whipped the air like berserk rotor blades.

"If you can tell me that weapon spent no longer than sixty minutes, that's one fucking hour, in my vehicle . . . then . . . we may be good."

Breathing heavily now from the exertion of his word explosion, he could see Steve's glazed looking eyes narrow as he calculated something in his mind. Nodding to himself as he obviously came to his answer, he smiled and said, "Then we're good" and looked up at his agitated partner with the grin that always made Danny, inwardly if not always outwardly, laugh.

The detective ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes heavenward in exasperation before turning toward the vehicle making its way down the pier. For now, rocket propelled grenade launchers didn't exist. Dwelling on the issue would only get his blood pressure up, and after tonight's excitement, it was probably high enough already.

Malia knelt down next to McGarrett, immediately noting his rasping sounding breaths. "You're definitely going to the hospital Steve. Even without a stethoscope, I can hear the water in your lungs. You're going to need attention for that."

"But . . . " began the SEAL's expected protest.

"Uh uh, Rambo." warned Danny, "The doctor has spoken. Don't even waste whatever breath you have. You're not getting out of a ride in the big white bus."

Said bus/ambulance pulled up near them, the crowd obediently parting to let it through, its lights reflecting off the puddles on the planks of the pier and the sparkling jewelry of the bystanders.

The lead EMT, Makena O'Brien, was one who'd responded to Five-0's calls in the past. He was familiar with the entire team and knew of McGarrett's reluctance to go anywhere near an ER. Reasoning with the stubborn commander about the need to get further medical assistance was usually futile. Unless the man was actually unconscious, it was always a fight. He hoped his haoli partner would prevail. He readied a mild sedative in case it was needed.

"Hey, Steve." he greeted. "What did you get into this time, brah?" O'Brien pulled out his stethoscope as his partner, Ralphie, got out the BP cuff.

Before McGarrett could even open his mouth, Dr. Malia Kelly answered for him. "Near drowning, congested lungs, maybe hypothermia, some bruising and probably exhaustion." she summed up, noting Steve's unhappy expression in spite of the obvious trembling and the intermittent shivers that had Cath rubbing his arms to try to get some warmth into him.

"Could you check the cat over?" he asked, not bothering to dispute the attractive doctor.

"Not my specialty but yeah sure – if he won't bite me. I'll take a listen to his lungs too. Looks like _both_ of you wound up going swimming?"

Malia took the bundled cat from Steve's still trembling arms, saying with a frown, "Steve first, then Cujo."

O'Brien pulled open the ruined shirt and put the stethoscope on his patient's chest and then leaned him forward and lifted the wet fabric to place the listening device against his back.

"Pretty soggy sounding, brah. The doc's right. You're going for a ride." Turning to the other medic, O'Brien said "Get a line started on him, only ringers for now."

"The cat?" said Steve, prompting the medic.

"Right" said O'Brien, gingerly placing his scope on the little body held toward him by Dr. Kelly. Cujo growled menacingly as the instrument pressed into wet fur.

O'Brien listened for a moment and frowning said, "From what I can tell, he sounds about like you do. Better get him to a vet. He's gonna need treatment too."

Cujo took that moment to make a half-hearted lunge toward the cautious medic who'd already heard of Five-0's mascot and had been ready to pull back out of danger.

"Hey!" he yelped as he heard the sharp little teeth click on the stainless steel stethoscope before he could snatch it completely out of harm's way. If it hadn't been made of metal, there'd surely have been fang marks left on it's surface.

"Good thing the wolverine's not hitting on all cylinders, Mac." laughed Danny who was still standing over them, dripping water onto the pier. "You'd a lost an arm if he was at his usual level."

"Well, I had a wino bite me once." said the medic glaring at the now growling animal who'd quickly been handed back to the SEAL. "That was enough for me. I heard about this one. He hasn't learned yet that I have sedatives for patients who give me any shit!" O'Brien made a point of directing his glare toward the SEAL as well who only looked innocently back at him but quickly apologized for his fierce little detective, (the one who wasn't Danny.)

"Sorry, Mac. We'll both be good." he smiled, the threat of being sedated enough to discourage any further protests about a trip to the ER. He hated the disorienting feeling of waking up from sedatives. Besides, considering he had his entire team and what seemed half of Hawaii's medical community on his case, a trip to the ER was unavoidable. He knew where to pick his battles.

Danny spoke up, ordering – "Cath can go with Steve to make sure he doesn't make a break for it. Lori, you and . . . "he looked around at his team, everyone but Malia was soaked.

"I'll go with." volunteered Angie. "We came together with Steve. I already have his keys. We can take his truck."

"You sure Ange? You're soaked. If I can find Max, I was gonna ask him to go with her to the vet's. I'm gonna hitch a ride with Chin, his seats are vinyl. No way I'm getting the Camaro's upholstery wet . . . again!

His thoughts turned to the last time Steve had gone for an unscheduled swim - plunging into the water after a suspected drug smuggler. Without any way to dry off first, he rode back to HQ in his partner's precious vehicle. It took forever for the seats to dry and they had smelled like wet dog until they did.

"No problem" answered his sister with a wicked smile. "I'd be more than happy to accompany Detective Cujo Daniel McGarrett to the kitty ER."

"Great, take him to . . . wait! What!" he stopped in mid-order, face in shock as he whirled on his partner now lying on the transport gurney; an oxygen mask clamped over his face.

"You named that evil little sonovabitch after me?" yelled the blonde his dripping clothing and seriously unstyled coif a comical testament to his own late night dip in the ocean.

"Well, sure, Danno." came the muffled voice from under the plastic mask. "You'd name your next kid after me if it was a boy – wouldn't you?" laughed his partner, the sound once again turning into a soggy cough.

"I don't think naming my son 'Neanderthal Moron Williams' would be a good idea!" snapped Danny.

The more than irritated detective knew there was a goofy grin behind the mask clamped to the face of the man being loaded into the ambulance by two loudly laughing EMT's.

….

Ricardo, or at least parts of him, were recovered along with the body of the unfortunate fire marshal.

The state's safety officer, Mickey Ikaika, had no children depending on him for support and no family other than a very bitter ex-wife to note his passing. Though it made his death no less tragic, the man would be remembered as one of the State of Hawaii's fallen who'd given their lives in protection of the place some called Paradise.

The pyrotechnician had swum ashore and actually hitched a ride from nearly the other side of the harbor to the hotel. Bewildered hotel security thought he was perhaps a drunken partygoer who'd wound up in the drink by accident. He explained what had happened and was handed over to HPD to give his statement.

The governor, though highly pissed that his party had ended so abruptly and in tatters, was having David his aide draft an official thank you to Five-0 to be read at the press conference in the morning. Steve was absolved of official appearances for the moment. It wouldn't look very good if the head of the Governor's Special Task Force were to pass-out in front of every reporter on the island.

The stories of Five-0's foiling of the plot to annihilate anyone of any official importance in the great state of Hawaii would include a cat, a visiting New Jersey detective and the governor's liaison/watchdog . . . talk about 'thinking outside the box'. This story wouldn't even require any extra spin.

…

It took only two days each for furball and human to leave their respective hospitals and return home. No one was looking forward to administering medication to either one. They'd both bite.

Steve had sustained no lasting harm from his latest adventure. Quick treatment had averted any further lung issues. After conversing with Doctor Ingstrom in New Jersey, the Hawaiian version of the astute pulmonologist only wanted to keep the cranky SEAL under observation for a couple of days to ensure the fact. Any longer would have been way too trying for both patient and caregivers.

Steve asserted he couldn't possibly catch any additional bugs because they would have run out from one of the many holes they'd poked in his arms and elsewhere. He was nearly as fractious and uncooperative as the cat who was also giving his doctor a run for her money.

Rest assured, both MD and DVM were glad to see their patients well enough to be released.

Danny drove as Steve settled restlessly into the passenger seat; so glad to be going home, he didn't even put up a fight about driving.

"So, how's Kono?" asked Steve, "She didn't come to see me when they were holding me prisoner in the hospital. That's not like her. She having a hard time with the Grayson thing?"

"Yeah, you could say that but some of it might be that she doesn't want to face her boss." answered Danny as he swerved carefully around a large pothole. Steve knew it wasn't for his benefit. Danny just didn't want to tax the Camaro's suspension system.

"Why wouldn't she want to face me?" asked a bewildered McGarrett, sounding maybe a little hurt.

"You know, allowing a criminal mastermind/killer into the ohana." said Danny, automatically using the Hawaiian word he'd very gratefully come to know the meaning of.

"That's not her fault.! OK, well maybe just a little for not being more selective but . . . "

"Not even a little, Steven! How was she to know he was only playing her? The guy was as slick as owl shit. Any woman would've fallen for his line." defended Danny.

"I wouldn't hold it against her! How could she not know that? We all make mistakes."

"Yeah, like you and that walking demolition derby of a cat." smirked Danny

"Hey, Detective Cujo Daniel McGarrett saved my bacon buddy."

"Only, after causing all the commotion in the first place by trying to off Grayson – not that he didn't deserve it, mind you - but I will **never** forgive you for naming that mangy little asshole after me!"

"You know you love him. Just like you love me." said the tall man an arrogant smirk on his still slightly too pale face.

"Yeah, what I'd _love_ is to take the both of you to a shrink and figure out what it is that drives you and that fur covered time-bomb to commit mayhem on a regular basis. It's a good thing you haven't taught him how to use grenades." huffed the detective, keeping one hand on the wheel while waving the other about for emphasis.

"Not yet, D. He's still a little too young for that. We have to start slow with those things." smiled Steve.

Williams only regarded his partner with an exasperated expression as he pulled into the McGarrett driveway a minute later.

The tall man recognized the usual vehicles parked there along with a Ford compact that was probably a rental.

He knew Cath wouldn't be able to get here until later tonight. The deal she'd made to be able to stay at Pearl for a couple weeks included putting in a few shifts as a favor to one of her ex-CO's as a communications liaison. Steve and his comely lieutenant still had some 'communicating' to do of their own.

When he entered, standing in the living room was his entire team including Angie. Immediately, the Jersey girl handed him a purring grey animal. Once again reunited with his human, Cujo nuzzled Steve's neck and then the sandpaper tongue went into overdrive as he licked his way from collarbone to jaw, his human scrunching up his face at the feel of it. The motorboat purring was an incredibly loud sound for such a small creature. Steve thought it the most wonderful sound in the world.

"Welcome home boss!" said Chin who patted him on the shoulder as Angela gave him one of those huge engulfing William's embraces. Once again, the little cat squawked in indignation as he was sandwiched between two humans.

_Why do they keep doing that? They know I'm here! _darkly thought the annoyed little animal_._

When they broke apart it was Lori's turn. Kono had hesitantly hung back.

Steve saw her on the periphery of the group. Handing off Cujo to Chin, he took a step toward her and held out his arms. _This hugging thing is actually OK,_ thought Steve realizing he'd comfortably and almost automatically extended the invitation.

Hesitating for a brief second, she took a step forward and folded her slender body into his hug.

"I'm so sorry Boss." she said, her voice barely audible as her eyes looked up onto his, their dark surface shiny with unshed tears.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Kono. The guy was a consummate con artist . . . among other things. You don't have anything to be sorry for." he said gently.

Just then, the doorbell rang and Chin went to answer it. There on the porch were Kurt and Pat Charteris; the snake man carrying a case of beer, (Longboards). Coming up the walk behind them were Max and Kamekona.

Amid the new round of welcome back hugs, Gracie clumped down the stairs looking as though she'd just awakened from a nap.

"Uncle Steve! Cujo!" she yelped and flew the last few steps to hug Steve around the waist.

"Hey! This is turning into a party." laughed Steve.

"Yeah, a coming home party for you and Cujo!" piped Gracie, all traces of sleep gone from her face as she happily nuzzled the purring little cat who'd been handed to her by her Uncle Chin.

"Come on, Rambo, the gang's put together some food and drinks for the occasion. Let's get out to the lanai before the food gets cold and the beer gets hot." said Danny, shepherding the group toward the back of the house.

Steve set the too familiar 'patient's belongings' bag down on the floor, (it contained what was left of a soggy tux and even soggier dress shoes). With one long arm around Kono and the other around Danny the trio went to sit in the sun.

Some of the group stayed back in the kitchen to get platters of food ready to bring out to the ancient picnic table. Gracie handed Cujo back reluctantly as Danny admonished her to go wash her hands after touching the cat so she could eat. He'd have reminded everyone else but it probably wouldn't have been so willingly or good naturedly obeyed. _They're probably going to catch some horrible cat disease, _thought 'mother hen' Danny.

Someone handed Steve a beer and after a quick look to see if he was going to have to argue with Danny about it, took a long cool swig. Things were back as they should be. His friends and ohana were around him. The sun was shining. The ocean was as blue as the pictures on the postcards and his cat was now snuggled peacefully in his lap.

"So, Ange, if I'm not mistaken; you have a date tonight?" he asked casually, basking in the warmth of the sun and leaning back into his chair.

"You remembered!" smiled Angela who looked quite fetching in a bikini top and shorts, her skin beginning to lose its ghostly Jersey pallor and acquire a golden hue.

"She cute?" he asked curiously.

"As a button. Big hazel eyes and sort of streaky blondish hair. Not real tall but she has a seriously sexy voice."

"She sounds hot. So, what is this mystery woman's name?"

"I don't know her last name yet but her name tag said 'Mary'"

The beer he'd just begun to swallow spewed forth, showering a very annoyed little cat who growled at the indignation of the foamy unexpected bath.

_Hey! These bubbles don't even smell like flowers! _Cujo's ears flattened and his pupils dilated.

…

PAU

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Hope you guys enjoyed the ride. Let me know your final thoughts on this story if you'd be so kind. If you have any suggestions for the next Cujo story, I'd be happy to hear them. Thanks so much for your support.**

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